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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937931">razzmatazz</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryfrens/pseuds/starryfrens'>starryfrens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>My Chemical Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Band Romance, Band relationship, Based on Razzmatazz by idkhow, Brief Sexual Mentions, Bullets Era (My Chemical Romance), Coda, Frerard, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Yearning, before and just after frank joined mcr, government bad, lyric plot, mostly sfw bc idk what im doing, this reads like a coming of age movie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:40:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryfrens/pseuds/starryfrens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>after a few casual hookups, frank's soul was bound to gerard's. but with the impending election threatening to overturn marriage equality, the weight of loss was too much for him to handle. so they burned their documents and disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but a hair-dye-stained gas station bathroom sink behind.</p><p>in which frank joins his favorite band and wipes himself off the map to escape the government.</p><p>based on the lyrics from the song razzmatazz by i don't know how but they found me.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Iero/Gerard Way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. i</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hai !! ok !! so !!</p><p>i literally cannot get over how the song razzmatazz by idkhow makes me feel so i just had to write something that would get all my gay yearning out. if you haven't listened to the song i really recommend that you do so, since the overall feel of this fic won't make much sense without it.</p><p>here's some pre-game info before we jump into things:<br/>-there will be some pretty heavy and frequent dwellings on homophobia in this work, it's a major theme in here, so if that is triggering then this might not be the fic for you :(<br/>-this is set pre-bullets, in the demo stage, just before frank joined the band<br/>-each chapter is a set of lines from the song and i have them all spaced out as plot points, so some chapters may be longer than others<br/>-let me know of any plot holes, time gaps, or rushed scenes so that i can fix them up and get this bad boy all shined up</p><p>anyway!! like i said i would love to hear some feedback on this so feel free to leave a comment or whatever idk :P</p><p>follow me if u want !<br/>ig: amnesiarts<br/>twt: thedevilscrimes</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>wait </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> don't hold your breath for goodness' sake </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> nobody's home </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Frank sloppily wiped the sweat from his forehead for what he thought was the millionth time, but what was actually the seventh time that night, throwing his hair back with a quick snap of the neck so that his bangs could stop dripping salt into his eyes and ran the bottom hem of his shirt down his face to try and dry it off. He'd already scratched one of his eyes with a particularly sharp strand of hair, and a steady stream of salt in a wound doesn't help anyone's case. The house lights were bright now, but not nearly as blinding as they had been when the strobes flailed and fell directly on him for 30 seconds straight. He swore he would find the light tech in the parking lot- that is- if he could even see him at all. All he could see now was the fuzz in his vision over the soaking wet floor, smashed beer cans and cigarette butts littering the seams of the concrete. Frank knew it'd been an incredible show if every inch of his body ached.</p><p>The show <em> was </em> incredible, he hadn't stopped buzzing yet. The bass was still vibrating in his ribs and that one particular cymbal still rang in his throat. The venue was mostly empty now, the longer he stood to compose himself, the more sparse the little basement became. He didn't care though, all he really cared about was watching it back behind his eyelids. He just saw his favorite band live and he was the only one left in the room. </p><p>There was something magical about seeing your favorite band live, especially as close as Frank was, inches away from the action as they leaned over him to scream into the crowd. He couldn't help but smile and clutch his side to ease the stitch that was forming there. </p><p>Someone tapped his shoulder.</p><p>"Liked my show, huh?"</p><p>Gerard Way had his hand on Frank's shoulder, sitting on the edge of the stage, smiling down at him.</p><p>"Yeah- I, uh, um… Sorry I got sweat in my eye- I just-" Frank shut himself up and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was even prettier than he was half an hour ago.</p><p>"Hey, don't sweat it, okay?" Gerard paused for a bit to giggle at his stupid pun and point over at his brother to ask if he'd heard it. Mikey just shook his head as he picked up his bass and walked through the sidedoor. "Look, kid, thanks for coming. I didn't think anyone actually would."</p><p>Frank scoffed and nodded, kicking a can of half full Miller Lite into the side of a trash can on the other side of the room out of the corner of his eye, still staring at Gerard. "Dude, did you have your eyes closed the whole time?"</p><p>Gerard turned to the side but followed Frank with his wide eyes, grinning like the same dramatic, theatrical show he'd just put on, and pushed off the edge he'd been sitting on to stand over Frank with his palm flat against the stage. "Maybe I did." </p><p>It was getting harder for him to hold himself together, sweating again but not from the moshing this time. It seemed like Gerard could sense it, looking down like 4 inches to swim in his eyes while Frank just short-circuited. He had no idea how he even got a single phrase out at all when he looked like <em> that. </em></p><p>"So, you got a bedtime to catch or you wanna go out back and smoke with me?" Gerard pitched his shaking chin up to get a little closer.</p><p>Frank frowned and brought his eyebrow and cheekbone up almost to meet. "I'm 20, live alone, and it's Saturday. The fuck do you mean 'bedtime'? Plus I don't smoke anymore. I quit after I got pneumonia because I couldn't afford to go to the doctor for bronchitis for the 50th time in a month last year. I'd be honored just to stand there with you, though. I mean, unless you wanna sit, I would love to sit, my stomach is killing me." He couldn't stop talking. It was like Gerard was dragging him in like a hook, line, and sinker, pulling him by the jaw in nearer and nearer so he could feel his breath against his face.</p><p>"These techs are gonna kill us for staying around here. I've been kicked out of my own shows one too many times. Come outside and sit with me if you're hurting."</p><p>Frank could feel every single one of his veins and his arteries were swollen with the blood that was 400 degrees inside of him. His hand burned from the tender hold Gerard kept on it, even when they passed under the air conditioner vent and they paused just before the back door opened because they knew it would be the exact same temperature outside. The farther away they got, the quicker the shock wore off and Frank realized he was being led by the hand to go have a conversation with the frontman of My Chemical Romance like it was absolutely nothing. He thought the feeling would make him want to run away and apologize like a frantic little child but it never did. He just followed Gerard like a puppy. The initial ache in his stomach turned to more of an anxious knot, flustered and flushed till they finally arrived at the designated spot where a single parking block sat under an orange street lamp around the side of the building where the buses were just out of sight. Then that knot became a comforted warmth. Before Frank could decipher what this peace was, Gerard returned that same hand to its place under his chin, pitching it up so he could get a better look at his face.</p><p>"Do you feel better now? I can go get some water for you."</p><p>The concerned sheen in the gloss over Gerard's eye wouldn't let Frank decline that offer so he just nodded and gulped another dry lump down. </p><p>"Okay, okay, stay here, don't move, I'll be back, okay?"</p><p>And with that he was alone again, legs folded to mask the trembling. <em> Was this really happening? </em> He was right there. The man on the 7 posters tacked onto his wall that he'd been silently blushing over behind the closed door of his bedroom every night for the past year because he was <em> just that beautiful, </em> was just touching his face and holding his hand and talking to him. He couldn't let Gerard see that gushy side of him, so he breathed and forced that warm, cozy feeling out.</p><p>"Here, nice and cold. This is the only brand of water that doesn't taste like metal to me."</p><p>Gerard appeared around the corner and gently handed him a bottle of water covered in condensation and dripping onto his jeans.</p><p>Frank didn't say anything. He had downed half the bottle before he even took a breath.</p><p>"Shit," Gerard swore, staring with his brow furrowed, "Does your sink not work at home? Do you go to shows and stand there all pretty just so that guys will give you water?"</p><p>He hummed and swallowed the last mouthful of water. "Yeah, that's exactly how it goes."</p><p>"Well, you're mighty good at it."</p><p>They just sat there and stared at each other for a minute, but Frank was too focused on watching the strands of hair tucked behind Gerard's ear slowly fall into his face to notice how he was looking him up and down and inching closer and closer, until he was four inches from his face.</p><p>"Can I kiss you?"</p><p>This caught Frank totally off guard, he didn't dare to move so he didn't flinch, but his eyes went wide. He refused to let himself think about it in case he ruined it so he just nodded and shut his eyes before Gerard saw how dilated his pupils were.</p><p>His lips were soft, his breath was hot, he tasted like mint and his hair smelled like the same pure sweat of the venue. Frank could sit there and kiss the whole night away. His hands were heavy in his lap, he couldn't bear it any longer with Gerard's thumbs pressed firmly under each of his eyes. He straightened his back and turned a bit towards him so he could fully tangle his hands in Gerard's jet black hair. Nothing else mattered. No one else in the world existed. It was the color pink all around him, a dark, dusty, passionate pink, and he wanted to paint the whole town that color so that everywhere he looked, he could see Gerard there. </p><p>He was so caught in this dream that he didn't notice him moving down his neck and abruptly pulled away.</p><p>"Gerard, we-" </p><p>He placed a finger to Frank's lips and smiled at him, that snarling, showy smile he always pulled up to his nose.</p><p>"Shh, no rush. I have a day off tomorrow. No one can see us anyway. You can stop holding your breath now, by the way."</p><p>Frank didn't even notice. He let out a long exhale and just bounced his leg, staring at his knee as it bobbed up and down . He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. He just kissed the lead singer of his favorite band and he didn't know what was supposed to happen.</p><p>Gerard smacked his hand against his own thigh. "I can't believe myself! I had to kiss you as soon as I could but I went so fast I didn't even ask what your name was. I'm rude as hell, sorry."</p><p>Frank kept blushing and staring at the hole in the knee of his jeans. "My- my name's Frank Iero, I guess." His cheeks burned, embarrassed at his shitty choice of words.</p><p>"You guess? Did they not tell you?"</p><p>Frank shook his head. "I don't think so. Maybe if they did I'd be a little better at this."</p><p>"Oh, come on. Look at <em> me </em>. You'd think that after sleeping with so many guys I'd start to think that maybe I should remember their names." Gerard flicked his head up and squinted his eyes at the street lamp above him to watch the moths smack against the bulb for a second or two. Frank could've sworn it was way longer than that, though.</p><p>"Okay, go on, show off. You're lucky I even let you kiss me, usually I'm like a deer in the headlights if a guy even <em> looks </em>at me. Consider this a win."</p><p>"So I will." Gerard leaned in closer and kissed him again, this time slower and softer.</p><p>Frank hoped he hadn't scared him off or made him feel like he had to be careful with him like he was some tiny little thing who needed guidance, but it felt safer this way. It was like he could slow down now, like he could truly kiss back once Gerard's desperation wore off. And eventually, they both picked up the pace and before he knew it, Gerard had his tongue down his throat and his fingers just under the hem of his shirt. His fingertips still had paint on them from God knows what, the rough smudges were smooth somehow against his skin. His hands were warm. Frank knew he should be watching the edge of the building where he could see the side mirror of one of the tour buses sticking out in case someone came sneaking around, but he didn't. He just sat there and moved with Gerard, forcing his groans to stay in his throat as whispers. The cement was getting harder and harder to sit on as he found it harder and harder to resist pulling Gerard on top of him, who must be a psychic, truly, because he suddenly backed away and placed a shaky hand on Frank's chest.</p><p>"Come home with me. Please."</p><p>At this point, Frank didn't care about how crazy this was. He didn't care about anything, He knew he wouldn't be able to handle doing anything or going anywhere but home with Gerard so he just nodded and let him take his hand again.</p><p>"Just give me two minutes."</p><p>He followed Gerard to the steps of the first bus in the row, head swimming with thoughts of how many ways this night could go, stopping to listen to the voices just inside the door.</p><p>
  <em> "Really, Gerard? In these politics right now?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "What about the last guy you said was 'really something'? You didn't even know his name." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Just be careful." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Did he actually say I was 'really something'? Did I imagine that? I must have… </em>
</p><p>Frank's head was spinning. He'd gotten that compliment from other guys before, mostly while they were knee deep in a fancy kind of orgasmic delirium, but coming from Gerard, it was just different. And something about the emergence of political talk twisted the knot in his stomach into something gnarly he wasn't sure he could ever untie. Frank didn't know why his love was such a tedious topic. Well, he knew the truth, but it wasn't like it was anyone's business but his and the guy's in his bed, but all he'd seen anywhere of anyone like him was represented in news articles telling of people throwing their lit cigarettes at gay couples, tossing slurs with them and matching every insult in the book to the donut shaped welts in undeserving shoulders. He hated having to worry so much, even though he could legally marry a man if he truly wanted to. Even that was teetering closer to the edge of the judge's bench with every waking second that Congress was in session. He couldn't deny it made him nervous, but he didn't like to show how fucking terrified he was. It had only been legal for a few years, threatened at every chance those devils could get, and each passing day made Frank more and more afraid that the little equality he had would be taken away. He couldn't even bear to remember the last time he'd seen his parents since he moved out, a big pride flag tacked on his living room wall being the first thing they saw walking into his new apartment didn't exactly create the most heartfelt goodbye. He really didn't want sleeping with Gerard to remind him of how much his family hates him, though. And honestly, Frank was sure he didn't want to ever be reminded of that again. He didn't want anyone to stop this. He hoped eternally he could have Gerard and feel some joy for just one second.</p><p>"Okay." Gerard sighed as the door swung shut behind him, a disgruntled look on his face overshadowed the same glimmer in his eyes from before.</p><p>"You alright?" Frank cocked his head to the side, a twang of dread stinging him in the gut in case Gerard was about to tell him he'd been found out and needed to take a hike before anyone came. God forbid anyone from the college he'd just dropped out of meet his eyes right now.</p><p>"Yeah- yeah, I'm fine. The guys just don't ever take it well when I take a guy home, you know?" He sighed again and dropped his eyes to his feet. "It's not like they have a problem with it, I've been out to them for- fuck, since day one, but hookups just aren't good enough for them."</p><p>Frank tossed his head to the other side. "I never knew you were… <em> out- </em>out."</p><p>Gerard nodded. "Yeah, I guess in a literal sense I'm gay, but, I don't know, I don't really like labels and names and shit like that. I just know I like dudes. And don't even get me started on gender, man."</p><p>Frank followed suit. "I get it, I'm the same way, except I'm just gay. I got gender figured out, though, nothing else to it."</p><p>Gerard narrowed his eyes at him, mostly at the way his homemade streaky Sharpie MCR shirt gripped his shoulders. Somehow that was enough for Gerard to evaluate his gender expression. "Show me your ways."</p><p>Frank grinned. He wasn't sure what to say but he knew he couldn't just stand there and listen to Gerard talk for another second, as smooth as his voice was, so he pulled himself onto the last step of the bus so he could stand eye to eye with him and kiss him without putting more strain on his already throbbing ankles. From there he was pulled to a regular old silver hatchback and against the passenger side door.</p><p>"Dude, you're a fucking rock-star. Do they not pay you enough to buy you a cooler car?"</p><p>Gerard put a hand on his own chest and stuck his bottom lip out, trying his best to look offended, but failing miserably.</p><p>"Look man, I don't give a shit. I just need to get from point A to point B. If boys like you think I look cool, I look cool. If boys like you don't think I look cool then I kiss them and shut them up."</p><p>Gerard gave Frank a quick kiss to do just that, but it didn't work as well as he'd hoped.</p><p>"Careful, your ego is so inflated you might just float away."</p><p>He playfully punched Frank's shoulder and put his hands on each of his hips.</p><p>"If I do, I'm taking you with me. Now stop talking and get in. Oh, and for fuck's sake, stop holding your breath when I kiss you. You're gonna pass out. I also live alone so nobody's home, which means no one will help you come to."</p><p>Frank looped his fingers around Gerard's belt buckle which was shaped like a bat because <em> of course it was, </em>pulling him sharply so he was right up against him.</p><p>"What? I hope <em> you </em>help me, at least."</p><p>"Test your fucking luck."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>welcome back  !!</p>
<p>i was gonna try and stick to some sort of schedule for uploads: every Saturday, since i tend to get ahead of myself and write an entire new chapter immediately after posting the last one, but there's no option to queue them for later, and i suck at waiting, they'll be a bit sporadic.</p>
<p>this chapter should be a little bit more in depth, chapter 1 felt like a filler, so this one should be better. i'm more proud of it, anyway.</p>
<p>enough of my rambling. enjoy !! :)</p>
<p>follow me if u want!<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>but you've got</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>parliaments filled with parasites</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All Frank could hear on the TV through his sobs was </span>
  <em>
    <span>"upcoming Supreme Court verdict will decide marriage equality after next election", </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he wished he couldn't hear at all. He was curled up in a ball on his hand-me-down sofa with his hands over his eyes. He hated how much it affected him, but what did he expect? How was he supposed to feel when he was being stripped from his humanity every week? He was one vote away from losing his rights so he'd given up on keeping up an image. It really didn't feel like there was anything Frank could do about this besides cry about it. He didn't have anyone to talk to that he would be comfortable with seeing him hysterically cry. He could text Gerard, but he hadn't talked to him in at least a month since they'd hooked up for the third time, so crying into his chest wasn't something on Frank's bucket list. He did miss him, though, and not just the sex; he just wanted to stare at him, at the way his hair always fell into his face, at the way his mouth was always open when he squinted his eyes, the way he sang along to the music that was always playing in his bedroom. Frank really liked Gerard and he was really fucking scared of what the Courts would decide after the next president was elected. It'd been forever since he'd really liked a guy like this. He really didn't want to lose this, and it only made the fear worse. He stayed curled up in a ball but shut the TV off so he could hear his phone buzzing on the coffee table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"hey frank, we've been at the studio for 5 hours now and toro is sick of laying down all the guitar tracks. didn't you say you played? i mean, if you're busy being a normal person i get it but we could really use some extra help here"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was from Gerard. He knew he'd been recording with My Chem for a while, but he hadn't heard anything for a month since Gerard was especially stressed and frustrated with how things were going, so he went on a rant non-stop to Frank trying to get him to fall asleep, even though it only made him focus more. He loved hearing the little intricate, intimate details of his favorite band and he could listen to Gerard talk for hours. He loved the scratch in his voice and how he could tell he'd been smoking. He liked to watch the corner of his mouth that he kept sealed and the gentle rubbing of his jaw on that same side from a persistent toothache he never stopped complaining about. Even when he complained, Frank didn't care. He just wanted to hear his voice at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He peered over at the cherry red SG Standard sitting on its stand near the doorway to the hall. He could play, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not very well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. He was embarrassed that after playing since he was eight, he'd have even one sliver of confidence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank's stomach turned. He wasn't that intimidated by Gerard anymore, he got more and more comfortable around the band the longer they existed in his life, and he was sure no one would notice if he played a couple riffs on their album. He was just concerned about being good enough for the rest of the guys. They'd been playing in a professional sense for so long, and Frank had heard Ray play on all those demos he'd listened to on the DIY CDs and at all shows he'd been to, so it was no surprise that he was nervous to play the songs he'd already memorized for him. He picked up his phone anyway. He hadn't talked to Gerard in a month. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"yeah i can play" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"send me the address i'll be there in 5"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank hadn't moved that quickly in a while. Stuffing picks into his pocket because he couldn't decide on a thickness, spiking his faded brassy hair up with cold sink water that ran down his arms into his sleeves, and slipping on one black sock and one gray one. Eventually he had all his gear loaded into the back of his burgundy sedan and he may have gone just over the speed limit to keep the adrenaline building in his gut to a simmer instead of a boil. He knew that if he let it get any further than that point, he wouldn't be able to stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank walked in the door, guitar case slung over his shoulder, expecting to have to explain himself to some front desk person who'd ask for his stupid I.D. and make him sit there with his stuff, but instead Gerard could see him on the other side of the tinted glass and smiled at him the second he met his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he waited for me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Frank could even say hello, Gerard pulled him in and hugged him tight, something he hadn't done before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is everything okay?" He reached up to brush a strand of patchy black hair out of his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, just stressed. And happy to see you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank looked up at Gerard endearingly. "I'm here now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank hated seeing anyone upset, especially the guy he'd been crushing on for the past few months, and the pure dopamine that usually pulsed through the veins in Gerard's hands wasn't there anymore. He was almost painful to look at. It was like he had a way of making the whole room heavy with whatever emotion he was feeling, like a supernatural force that could influence anything they wanted. It was never hard for Frank to pick up on the times that he wasn't focused on the words coming out of his mouth because he just wanted to go down on him, or when he couldn't hold still after getting an email about a review on his latest demo tape. Maybe Frank just liked him and wanted to imitate his moods so that they would last forever, or maybe Gerard was just powerful, he wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it was taking a strong effect. Even the receptionist was fidgeting with her pen behind her desk, dark gray smudges appearing like ink around her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here, uh, come see the guys. We just need a couple tracks from you, it shouldn't be too much."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They rounded the corner just out of sight of the lobby and Gerard grabbed both sides of Frank's face, thumbs pressed firmly under his eyes like he always did, and kissed him like he needed to breathe. He forgot how long it'd been. As he stared into his eyes, Frank felt he should bring up the recent news from ten minutes ago, since he was sure his eyes were still puffy and pink, feeling the anxiety creep up into his belly again at how quickly Gerard had to hide him just to kiss him. But he didn't want to stress him out more. He'd heard enough today. Or maybe that was what was making him feel this way. Whatever, that would make it worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard cocked his head to the side and twisted the one of the curls of sideburn that sprawled across Frank's left cheekbone between his fingers. "Your chest is tight, isn't it? I'll take you home after this and I'll fix it, okay?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was that magical sixth sense Gerard had, coming up again. He didn't bother hiding anything from him. He didn't know why he was still insisting on protecting him from whatever was on his mind. He could see right through him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gerard, I-" He could see the concern light up again. "I have more to say than just your name when I'm in your bed, could we just talk this time? Not that sex wouldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>help, I'm just saying-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No I get it. I know what you mean. Man, you're like an open book, you know? I can just read right into you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can tell. Good luck up here." Frank pointed to his hairline, laughing a little at thoughts he didn't remember anymore, but if anyone knew what they were, he'd be ashamed of himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You've been crying." Gerard kept his hand on Frank's face, swiping his thumb gently below his lash line, peering directly into Frank's soul in the dim hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's nothing. Just regular old shit." He really didn't like being this vulnerable. It made him feel small, shivering before an all-knowing host that could unlock all his secrets without a key to the lock. He knew it would eventually get easier, that the sacred vaults inside his brain that were rotten shut had to be cracked open if he ever wanted to breathe easy without the stench of every memory again. That didn't mean that the wedge Gerard was driving into the crack in the door was any less sharp and piercing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Regular old shit shouldn't hurt you this badly. I'll fix it, I promise." This was something he always said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I'll fix it, I promise.' </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn't tell if Gerard had some ingrained obligation to soothe everyone he met, even though he was good at it, but he knew it would take a lot more than a bundle of herbs under his nose that calmed his heart rate to even come close to putting any polish on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just nodded. He'd only known this guy for a few months, less than that even, a majority of the experience he'd had was with his hands around his throat, but he felt like he'd known him forever. All that time he spent admiring his band from a distance felt like a fever dream. Hallucinogenic at best.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked a little, pinkies intertwined, so that they could easily let go if someone came down the hall. But no one ever did. They got to the door and Gerard opened it and rested his hand on his shoulder to usher him in, smirking just enough so that the right corner of his mouth perked up a little. "Here's our man, guys. This is Frank Iero"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank loved how Gerard always said his last name slightly wrong, no matter how many times he corrected him and tried to explain the phonetics. He thought it was cute anyway. Frank looked up now, away from Gerard with what must have been his strongest loving eyes because a faint ring of dusty pink faded in and quickly out like a flicker of a halo around Gerard's head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waved and tried to be subtle about shifting his weight to the balls of his feet so he could stand on his tiptoes to shake Ray's hand, since that man was at least a head taller than he was, and thankfully no one noticed, except for Gerard. Frank knew that he could see him whenever he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So- we're trying to figure out how to fill in some bits behind Toro's stuff in Monroeville live for like, months now, and nothing seems to be working </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I mean, looper pedals get it done, but they're not seamless, you know?" Mikey leaned back from the mixing console and adjusted the headphones around his neck so they wouldn't pull on his hair. "We were just having him play it as an intro before the song started and then hit the pedal when it's time to jump in, but it takes a lot of time to get all those parts in order and pressed out in that same order, so we've run out of options here. Please help us. I think I'm gonna go bald before I'm 25."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank walked to stand over the console next to Mikey, thinking with him, even though every ounce of him was begging to sit down with his guitar and escape from the world around him for as long as it took. All his nerves were numb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I mean like Mikey said, I know that's what Gee called you in here to do, but if you don't mind filling in this little melody on top of this track, that would essentially solve all our problems. We can give you an hour to learn it if you need to get-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, it's cool," Frank interrupted. "I have that song completely down for memory. I know all you guys' songs by heart actually." God, he sounded so corny there, he really needs to go out more often. He peered over at Gerard for a second, who was hiding his smile in another bout of rubbing on his jaw. Of course he already knew that. Of course he was honored that anyone even knew the words to his songs at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well then." Ray set a heavy hand on Frank's shoulder and smiled at him. Frank tried to make eye contact with him but all he saw was his own reflection in his glasses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How long have you been playing?" Ray ducked behind the glass panel of the booth separating the rest of the room with the guys and an intricately placed set of microphones piled on top of each other like a swarm of bees. He plugged a six-foot cable into one of the amps in a stack that was honestly taller than Frank was and switched it on, making him think about the tiny little Fender amp he played on in his living room that didn't even reach his knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Twelve years. Since I was 8."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whooaa.." Everyone in the room harmonized, and Frank shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Played my first show in my first band when I was 11." He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn't want to come off like he was boasting about that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shit, man. I guess I don't have to tell you how to work that Gibson in your hand, then. Just press play on here, you can repeat it a few times till you think you've got it down, or you can put on these headphones and play in sync, whatever, and the giant red circular button on here starts recording, blah, blah, you got it." Ray slapped his hand down on the table in front of a black plastic crate surrounded by those same microphones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank knew exactly what melody Ray was talking about, and exactly how to play it, he'd sat down on the cold hardwood floor of his apartment playing every part of Early Sunsets along with the CD on his shitty speakers on way too many nights. He just wanted to listen to it one more time, though. He flinched a little at the all too familiar buzz and scream of fumbling around for the output jack with the end of the cable, a sound that made his heart beat a little faster. He took one last look up at Gerard through the glass, who had his face buried in his hands, curled up in a rolling desk chair in the corner of the room to keep from smiling ear to ear. Frank hadn't played for him yet. He'd shown him his Pencey Prep tapes so he wouldn't miss his voice, but he didn't exactly have the time to pick up a guitar since he was too busy hooking up with him. Ray leaned up against the table a bit to the side, watching him delicately, but carefully, observing every movement of Frank's fingers. He decided he was done overthinking and popped the bulky headphones over his left ear and kept his right one out so he could listen to himself play. A few test strums and volume adjustments coupled with a bout of nervous laughter, Frank leaned forward and let himself get inside his own head so he didn't have to think about all the people who could hear him, who would listen to this in a few months, and all the people in the entire world who felt like they were right on the back of his neck. It was a quaint little melody, and it helped calm him down, something that would be in the background of a Hallmark movie, not in a song about killing your girlfriend and then sleeping next to her corpse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He placed his first finger on the fretboard and let muscle memory take over. Occasionally his foot tapped on the carpet to keep time, but otherwise he finished it all in one take and stopped recording.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>First try, </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just like always.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared down at his hands for a few seconds, waiting for some sort of feedback or criticism, dreading looking back up at Gerard or even Ray and Mikey in case it was somehow not good enough, now that he was back outside in his body again, instead of all cooped up inside where no one could see him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck, Frank, why didn't Gerard fuck you last year when we </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> got this problem?" Mikey laughed and Gerard threw a pick at him and hushed him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Michael!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"All this time we could've fixed everything in two minutes." Mikey didn't seem to think his remark was that out of pocket at all, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank giggled a little and shifted in his spot and looked up at Ray, finally, who was smiling a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"When was the last time you played a show?" He said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Last month. It really was my actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>last</span>
  </em>
  <span> show since my band had to break up because of 'creative differences', but I know that's bullshit, because right after I said I wanted to write a song about fucking this cop's dad-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you wanna join my band?" Gerard appeared at the entrance to the booth now, interrupting and kneeling down to meet Frank's posture on the crate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank gave up completely on the air of professionalism he tried so hard to maintain but wasn't sure he still had, gasped, and let his pick slip out of his fingers. His jaw dropped and he smacked his hand on the neck of his guitar bringing it up to cover his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wonder how many languages I can say 'yes' in." </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. iii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi omg !! i did not expect this to get the 60+ hits that it has but here we are !! thankyou to everyone who has subscribed/bookmarked, i appreciate you very much !!</p>
<p>special thankyou to my friend shannen for supporting me, this project, and my art in general. iloveu</p>
<p>this was a difficult chapter to write because i tapped into my own emotions and projected quite a bit, so it was heavy on my heart and i spaced out pretty often but it was well worth it as i'm very proud of this one. i hope you like it.</p>
<p>follow me if you want !! :P<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> plus marquees with your name in lights </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> a star is born and that's the trade </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> for everyone you know </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>"So, like, are you saying-" Frank was gleaming, streaks of pink dancing in the sides of his vision just out of sight.</p>
<p>Gerard nodded, and Frank could swear that he could see his heart beating through his Iron Maiden shirt.</p>
<p>"I'd play shows and record on your albums and like-"</p>
<p>"<em>Be </em>in the band." Mikey interrupted, crossing his ankles and leaning against the edge of the console.</p>
<p>"You don't understand, you guys have been my favorite band since I heard Skylines playing in a record store last year, I've been to three of your shows, I know all your music on my guitar, I mean- fuck, this means the world to me." Frank had his hands pressed together, fingers tightly wound like a knot, brought up close to his face and reflecting the light beaming from his eyes out into the room.</p>
<p>"Thanks, Frank." Gerard looked down from Frank, smiling down at the unlit cigarette he was tipping up and down between his middle and ring fingers, resting the same section of his jaw he'd been nursing on the heel of his hand. "We'd <em> all </em>love to have you around."</p>
<p>"I'm in."</p>
<p>Ray took Frank's hand in his, practically swallowing it whole, and pulled him into a hug. Letting go, he said: "Hey, man, we have one more thing for you if you'd like to check it out."</p>
<p>"I don't see why not, I mean, I barely even played." He pinched the top string with his index finger and his thumb so it let out a faint little <em> twum </em> and looked up at Mikey through the glass.</p>
<p>"Great!" Ray practically jumped up and down, pulling a CD from a stack on the table in front of him. "This is a new song we're working on, and usually I wouldn't have any trouble doing this myself but I want you to play rhythm in it. You play rhythm right?"</p>
<p>Frank nodded. "Yeah I do… How did you know that?"</p>
<p>There was a short pause until everyone agreed on an answer. <em> "Gerard." </em></p>
<p>"I showed them that CD you gave me, the Pencey one."</p>
<p>
  <em> Of course he did. </em>
</p>
<p>Ray played the demo for Frank, pausing it every so often so he could comment on what he wanted to change, scribbling organized blocks of bullet points on a tiny notepad with a Sharpie marker.</p>
<p>"Give me half an hour." Frank stooped to get his pick up off the carpet, slid the headphones over his ear, and zoned out again, sitting exactly how he would when he sat on the floor or the sofa to play. It took him a few takes to get that one chord right but eventually the rest was history.</p>
<p>He finally pressed the stop button and pulled the headphones off, wringing his hands out to pop his knuckles so he could move his hands like a human again.</p>
<p>"Fuck yeah." Mikey threw his fist in the air in victory, pushing a couple sliders away from him so that every note blossomed and flowed into a steady, distorted, damn near microwavable stream.</p>
<p>"We just need Toro to go over his parts again, polish her up, and then it's a wrap on the Honey demo, guys." Mikey pushed his rolling chair back with his feet and smiled, satisfied.</p>
<p>After shaking hands with the guys and exchanging the reliefs they all felt, Frank turned around and immediately buried himself in the crook of Gerard's neck. He had a way of hugging people that wasn't too far from just headbutting them, pressing his face into their clothes and wrapping his arms around their waists as tightly as he could. Frank could tell he was proud of him. He could feel it radiating like warmth from Gerard and he lingered there for a second. He didn't know what he was waiting for exactly, but Gerard kissed the top of his head and pulled back a bit so that Frank could still keep his hands on his hips and rest his head on his shoulder. It was safe here. He felt like every pathway to everything was wide open and he could go down any one of them and still be surrounded by love. He felt like the space between him and Gerard was a glowing, evergreen, ethereal forest where the saturated green leaves split the sun's rays into nurturing, guiding fingers that touched every inch of him. This forest harbored no threats, no predator in sight, just shallow pools teeming with life that provided overflowing wealth to all who never knew they needed it, but all received blessings nonetheless. This place was Heaven, even if Frank didn't believe in the myth. This place was Heaven, even if Frank knew he had never felt more alive.</p>
<p>"Do you still wanna come home with me later?" Gerard's voice was like a smooth roll of thunder in his world, in his forest, the space between, and the scratchy hoarseness blew a tailwind in from behind to push Frank along the secluded path, hushed by the canopy and sheltered from the rain. It was fresh spring water, moss on river rocks, perfect bundles of tadpoles, pine needles, and hidden patches of snow. The pitch-up at the end of the question had flowers in it: tiny, delicate buds fed by the sun's rays that coated the grasses, speckling the ground with a transposition of vibrant pink: that same dark, dusty, passionate pink. He had never seen a space so lush, so rich, so loaded with beauty before in his life. Frank was sure he'd remember it forever, and he wanted more than anything to take Gerard there and show him, regardless of if it was real on this planet or not.</p>
<p>"I'd love to." Frank whispered, speaking softly so as not to disturb the quiet ecosystem he'd grounded himself into.</p>
<p>"I love you too."</p>
<p>All at once, the entire forest in between Frank and Gerard became even more beautiful, the sun setting on the horizon right between the two rows of trees on either side of the path, sweltering and big enough that Frank could fall right into it if he took one step forward, showering the land in gold. His heart was beating so fast and there was nothing he wanted to do about it. Every ounce of his universe was overflowing, chemicals spilling from his heart into his brain like a celebratory pour of champagne. </p>
<p>He hadn't intended to tell Gerard that he loved him, it wasn't what he even said at all, and he hadn't even had that conversation with himself about whether he just liked him or if he loved him, but as right as it felt in the moment, he didn't question it one bit.</p>
<p>
  <em> He loved Gerard. </em>
</p>
<p>"I love you."</p>
<p>Frank let go of Gerard and stepped back a bit, smiling at him still, and Ray stuck his hand out in front of him.</p>
<p>"Are we official?" He said, eyes glowing with excitement. "Should I put it on MySpace?"</p>
<p>"Yes we are, and yes you should." Frank shook Ray's hand firmly.</p>
<p>Frank's fingers were aching with anticipation to log on to his laptop and finally change his occupation status from 'Musician - Guitarist and Vocalist - Pencey Prep' to 'Musician - Guitarist - My Chemical Romance'. The shock hadn't fully set in yet, even as he was walking down the sidewalk, clutching the straps of his guitar case so that Gerard couldn't tell that his hands were trembling.</p>
<p>"Are you still coming over?" Gerard smoothed down some stray flyaways in Frank's hair with his fingers. Frank could tell that he couldn't keep his hands off of him, pulled to him like bait on a line, swallowed, just trying to be as close as he could get to him. It was like he made a wish every morning after he woke up that his hands would bless everything they touched, and he saved all his magic for Frank so that he could pour his blessings out in overwhelming abundance.</p>
<p>"Yeah, do you want me to follow you there now?"</p>
<p>"That'd be easiest."</p>
<p>Frank was in love with him. The sound of his voice was like wind rustling through the pine trees he'd just stood underneath in the sacred space between Gerard's chest and his, bathed in peace. He loved to repeat the comparison, mulling it over in his mind, and finding new places in nature to put in a frame next to it. He wanted to kiss Gerard so badly, six inches away from his right side, he thought about how easy it would be to grab him and push him against the wall of the building that Gerard ran his hand along as he walked, and it filled him up to his chest like a raging fire. It wasn't just his libido talking, he'd just told the guy he loved him, and Frank hadn't seen him in a month, so it just made sense. The sidewalk was secluded by a hedge and gate, for some sort of security, so he slung his guitar case over his shoulder, grabbed the sides of Gerard's face and kissed him, passionately, enough so that he dropped the notebook that was in his hands so he could wrap his arms around him. He pulled away and smiled.</p>
<p>"You're cute. I'll see you there."</p>
<p>Frank could hardly keep his mind on the road while he drove, anxiously weighing whether he'd be totally honest about what was on his mind, lie and try to get away with it so he could forget about it in some quality time or quality sex, or if he'd just walk in the door and Gerard would instantly pick up on it. He thought it would probably be easier to tell him he was on his deathbed than ask him how he felt about the election next year. The Misfits CD playing on his stereo was just loud enough to be legible and keep Frank from hiding inside his mind like he did earlier so that he didn't have to feel the world around him. It was the same album he'd been listening to since he was 16, and it had been in the slot of his burgundy sedan ever since then, the repeat button stuck down and jammed from the frantic pressing of his youth. Many nights were spent alone in this car, parked in the driveway, screaming the lyrics at 4am while his family slept. He'd taken guys on dates to this album, made out with guys to this album, broken up with best friends and boyfriends alike to this album… He could keep going on reviewing memories for hours but all he wanted was a single positive one to last more than three months. So far he was most of the way there, and it was overwhelming. His heart had a knack of falling too fast and too hard, the first couple hookups confirmed that Gerard would be in his life for a long time, satisfying that one sharp tack that stuck him into everyone he touched. It was like an itch, a need, a longing; something that tied Frank to him with an invisible cord. His fears were starting to get the best of him, though, that maybe one day that cord would start stressing, catching and snaring on the spiked iron fences of all the government buildings. If the dissent was convincing enough it would only sharpen the blades. Basically, the beauty he'd <em> just </em>built was dangling over his head by a thread and the President was running around with scissors.</p>
<p>And <em> Jesus Christ </em> did that scare him. It made his insides boil and nip at his ankles, flaming fingers licking at his skin like a wildfire with anxiety. The smoke filled the air around him, fogging up his vision and burning the back of his throat. Frank wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. <em> How did Gerard get anywhere? He drives so goddamn slow... </em></p>
<p>Finally, Frank watched Gerard carefully park in his own driveway before pulling up against the curb, yanking his keys out of the ignition and practically jumping out of the car so he didn't have to spend another second alone. He didn't even look at Gerard, walking fast past him to the front door of the little house so he didn't completely burst into a million tiny pieces. He just wanted to press his face into Gerard's shoulder again so he would bury him in his arms and let him fall apart. There was no escaping it or putting up a barrier this time, even though he was trying as hard as he could. He told himself he really didn't want Gerard to see him cry, but fuck it, he'd already worked himself up beyond recovery. He couldn't even hide his fear from himself.</p>
<p>"Eager today, are we?" Gerard giggled while he walked up behind Frank, just barely brushing against him before unlocking the door.</p>
<p>Frank still couldn't look at him. He just grabbed Gerard by the hand, darted inside and immediately threw himself on the floor against a wall, curled up in a ball, and cried.</p>
<p>"Holy shit, Frank-" The second he sat down on the floor next to him, Frank was on top of him and had nestled his face into Gerard's chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt in shaking hands. They both stayed there for a while. No matter how many times Gerard rubbed his back and whispered to him, Frank just sobbed. For seven minutes, actually, to the dot. Those seven minutes were eternal. It felt like he was releasing every ounce of grief he'd ever had, and every droplet of misery he'd kept bottled up was pouring out of his eyes. Frank didn't think he could stop himself. Once his chain was cut, he had to run himself dry. He wasn't sure if he was even touching Gerard at all, the tingling in his extremities ran all the way up to his knees and elbows, numb and cold like he was frozen in a block of ice of time. He hadn't cried this violently in years, after spending so long forcing himself to choke it down since his music was starting to get serious, then it suddenly wasn't anymore, and the time in between then and now was just like the space between Christmas and New Year's where he completely forgot how to feel at all. He could never tell if he was allowed to. Now, after all this time, Gerard was enough proof for Frank to cut himself open and let his fluids drain out. </p>
<p>"Shhh… Frankie, it's okay." Gerard's voice was like silk, soft like the cardigan he pulled over Frank's sides so he could be surrounded by his scent. "I'm right here, baby, it's alright." He kept cooing tenderly in his ear, hands firm on his back, patient and kind.</p>
<p>Frank could tell he was running out, and eventually, the screams of sorrow that made his throat hurt reduced to shaky groans and he was calm again. He didn't dare open his eyes in case he'd made a war zone out of Gerard's rug. </p>
<p>"I'm so sorry." He croaked, fighting off sleep. His stomach twisted and his head swam, seeming to drown in the tears he'd spilled.</p>
<p>"Why? You know you don't ever have to be." Gerard brushed the single wet curl of Frank's sideburn that was stuck to his cheek back to where it was supposed to be, and kissed the top of his head. "Is it the band? Are you nervous? If you are, I know how you feel."</p>
<p>"No," <em> sniff. </em>"it's not that. I can't take this anymore." Frank's nose was clogged. "It's just- I- I'm so fucking terrified of losing you that I'm too fucking scared to love you. But- but I do. I love you. I love you and- and I can't help it." </p>
<p>Gerard was silent for a bit and it only made the churning in his intestines worse. His thumb swiped gently over his back still, and the repetition gave him something to focus on so he didn't go insane and explode.</p>
<p>"What if I don't want you to help it?" He pitched Frank's chin up with two fingers so he could look him in the eyes. "What makes you think you have to?"</p>
<p>Frank adjusted himself so he could rest the side of his head on Gerard's shoulder and look up at him. He was so captivated by his face, sharp and chiseled but round and soft, androgynous and just right, and absolutely, without a doubt, perfect in every sense of the word. "I might not have the right to make that decision this time next year. We were both walking on eggs and broken glass the first time we kissed."</p>
<p>Gerard looked away to stare at the corner of the room, and Frank could feel his heart rate quicken. "I've been trying not to think about that. Like, I'm hoping that the more I run from it the less real it will be. But that's not how it works. That's not how… life… works, you know? If we waste all our lives trying to live another life that doesn't hurt and petrify us, then, when it ends, did we ever truly live? We'd never know what the risk was, or how beautiful it could've been. And that's not to say that this is even remotely beautiful or glamorous, because it's not- it's fucking scary and you're right. Frank, you're right to be this scared." He paused for a moment to look Frank in the eyes again and put his hand on the side of his head, thumbing just under his eye. "But you can't let your fear stop you from loving. In the end we're all just people. Everyone who tries to get in between, this fucking government, those leeches and bacteria swimming in the brine pools of the deepest, darkest scum of the Earth, all of them, are all just people. They breathe and they sleep at night, and, if I'm being honest, I really hope they don't, I hope they toss and they turn and they suffer.</p>
<p>"Frank, I hope you know that humanity will always tussle with messes of disgusting corruption, we will always be devoured by evil, and there will always be a crowd in the arena cheering on the lion to tear you apart, but, the longer we let it scare us off, the more we believe that that's all there is. We forget all the hiding spots that are untouched, pure, and whole. And it's in those places that we recover. I need you to let me take you there. And I know that the going is overwhelming. I know how it feels to be swallowed completely fucking whole by this. I still can't sleep at night. I'm absolutely scared shitless. I don't want to lose you either. Please don't go. Don't run from <em> me </em> too. I want to love you in peace as much as you want peace still standing, so please, please stay. But if you're gonna run, I wanna go with you."</p>
<p>Frank didn't need to think about it anymore. He didn't need to relay his fears in his head, or refute what Gerard had said, or deny anything. He just sat up and kissed him. He kissed him until he gasped for breath, tugging on his hair, and Gerard laced his fingers through the belt loops of Frank's jeans, pulling him closer. He was sure that Gerard could taste the saltiness of the dried tears all over his face, but he knew he didn't care at all. Frank planted kisses down his neck, hands moving over his chest and slowly hiking his shirt up. Gerard put a hand on Frank's chest to push him back a little, threw his shirt off, and pulled him back in again, letting Frank run his hands over his smooth skin. Frank had no idea a human being could be this soft, this delicate. He had no idea why he didn't have the whole world begging for him or why he chose only him. </p>
<p>Frank took his own shirt off and just laid there on Gerard's chest, letting their temperatures mix and settle, pressing his lips occasionally to his sternum and following his blue veins from his shoulder to his heart with his fingers. Frank didn't want to sleep with him, at least not now, even if it was the routine for every time he went to his house, he just wanted to feel his love and his body as it was right now, raw and sitting slouched on the floor. He loved the way his stomach rolled, the creases forming pastel pink lasting marks like satin ribbon that he thought portrayed Heaven pretty accurately. He looked ten times as beautiful this way, and he laid there admiring him for a while, slowly running his hands over as much of his torso as he could reach. Gerard followed his lead, kissing his temple every now and then and watching the way Frank's back sloped, gracefully sculpted like a rolling meadow. Gerard also saw nature in everything. He could always tell when someone was truly special if the first thing he thought of when he saw someone was how they resembled the world around them. Then he'd go home and he'd write about it and ask if it was a messenger. It almost always was. He had a pink folder in the middle of his table that was filled with sketches and descriptions of those messengers. Gerard couldn't wait to make Frank's next. He couldn't take his eyes off of him, not even to blink. He felt like even that was long enough to miss something. He traced the tattoos on his back and shoulders, carefully loving each one. </p>
<p>"Gerard," Frank murmured.</p>
<p>"Hm?" His voice was low and raspy, still rough like Frank loved, like an ocean wave, he thought.</p>
<p>"You're beautiful."</p>
<p>Gerard would usually chuckle and blush at this, shaking his head and telling Frank he was way prettier than he was, but this time, he didn't. "Thank you." He whispered, sliding his thumb over Frank's eyebrow. "You're beautiful too."</p>
<p>As Frank's eyes fluttered shut, and the smile on Gerard's face grew, he kissed his forehead one last time. "I love you."</p>
<p>"I love you too."</p>
<p>He carried him off to his bed and let him sleep there, all swaddled up in his blankets so he was surrounded by his scent again. Then Gerard shut the door, sat down at his table, opened his notebook and the pink folder, and wrote page after page of love song after love song about Frank and drew him from memory, with little hearts floating above his head.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. iv</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>wows! this chapter is a doozy, the first draft took me 8 hours...</p>
<p>anywayz! here they are, all shiny. </p>
<p>if this fic has not already show you this, i'll tell you myself: im in love with gerard way and it is becoming increasingly obvious. </p>
<p>follow me if u want 2 !! <br/>ig- amnesiarts <br/>twt- thedevilscrimes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>let's go paint the town</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>on our way home</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>the blinking lights</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>are breaking bones</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you think of this one?" Gerard held up a pot of the brightest fuschia hair dye Frank had ever seen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gee, your hair is </span>
  <em>
    <span>black</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how the fuck do you expect that to go even remotely close to well?" Frank put one hand on his hip and extended the other out towards Gerard, who whined and stuck his bottom lip out, something he was very good at. Frank sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just… just promise me you won't come running to me asking where my clippers are when you fry all your hair off." He scratched above his ear where he'd just freshly trimmed the sides of his hair, letting the weak curls running up the middle and down the back of his head blend in a little easier and fade out. Of course he left his sideburns long so that Gerard could twist that one wavy strand between his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Seriously? </span>
  <em>
    <span>When </span>
  </em>
  <span>have I ever done that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm just saying! I've had buddies do that after I told them </span>
  <em>
    <span>'no, dumbass, all your hair's gonna fall out,'</span>
  </em>
  <span> but no one listens to me." Frank tossed two boxes of developer into the basket he was carrying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cashier gave them side-eyed glances the entire time she was checking them out, which made Frank's stomach churn a little bit, but he laughed it off once he got in the car and shut the passenger side door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, wanna go on a drive tonight?" Frank adjusted the plastic bag full of hair dye that they'd just bought on his lap so he could put on his seatbelt. "I feel like staying up late."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure." Gerard turned over his shoulder and slowly backed out of the parking spot, put the car in drive and glanced at Frank for a second while he turned the wheel back to where he wanted it. "I'd love to stay up late with you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank made Gerard drive him to his apartment since he still hadn't seen it yet, and when they arrived he pulled him into the elevator and shut the doors as fast as he could. He kissed him on the cheek and Gerard just turned, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and kissed him on the mouth for a second or two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doors opened and Frank peeked out around both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was there, and when no one appeared, he led Gerard by the hand to his apartment eight doors down. He unlocked it with shaky hands as Gerard leaned against his shoulder, blowing the last drag of his cigarette on his neck and snuffing it out on the cement under his shoe. Frank coughed and his eyes watered, but he hated to complain about Gerard's pathetic requests for attention. It felt like he struggled for an hour, but it only took a couple jiggles of the key in the slot for him to finally get the knob to turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Frank shut and locked the door behind them and pushed Gerard against it, kissing him and inhaling his scent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are not very patient, Iero." He ran his hands down Frank's chest till he could rest them on his hips. Frank wanted to tattoo something there so that Gerard would fit right in. It was his favorite spot to touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe not, but you're needy." He stepped back and disappeared into the kitchen, cracking open a can of cola from the fridge and taking a long sip of it. "Come in here, I wanna show you around."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard followed his voice and when he saw Frank sitting on the counter, legs swinging back and forth, he couldn't stop smiling. He still found himself in awe of how beautiful Frank was, even after the eleven times he'd drawn him and analyzed every inch of him with the graphite tip of his pencil. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He has the perfect bone structure and face for sketching…</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, watching the way he squirmed in his seat as he got closer, memorizing how he looked so he could add it to the little red sketchbook when he got home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This is the kitchen." Frank talked through his grin while Gerard pressed his forehead against his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I see that. It's nice. I've always wanted a window over the sink." He backed up and took the can from where Frank was holding it between his thighs and drank some, looking over his shoulder at the lawn below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I like watching people take their dogs out. Sometimes there's rabbits too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard lit up. "You're an empath, aren't you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know, am I?" Frank stole his drink back and sipped it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, for one, you pull everyone to you, like, I feel like I could tell you all my secrets. Second," He paused and looked over at the picture frames on the counter next to where he was sitting, filled with photos of animals, from birds and rats to turtles and fish, in Frank's hands, obviously rescued in the wild, and several photos of dogs with dates written on them. "You're an animal lover."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I volunteer at the shelter down the road sometimes and they always ask me to foster these dogs for a year or so because they're sick or old or just got there from a mill or they run out of room, or whatever, and I can't ever say no. I love them all so much and I kept all the photos I took." Frank laid his fingers on one of the frames that had a photo of a chubby brown chihuahua mix in it. He lingered on it for a bit then turned his gaze back to Gerard. "Anyway-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're an empath." Gerard interrupted him. "You love so deeply, don't you? I can tell that you attach yourself to every single thing you touch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank's kitchen was cluttered, his whole house was, and as hard as he tried to organize everything and clean as much as he could, more stuff just piled up. It was almost all photos. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had no idea how Gerard knew these things about him. Maybe he was just observant, or maybe Frank had told him and instantly forgot. Whatever it was, it wasn't unnerving like he thought it would be. It was like he knew him forever; some kind of past life soulmate thing that Gerard would lecture him on if he let him sit still, talking with his hands in the candlelight of his glowing eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What does the rest of your place look like?" Gerard put his hands on Frank's thighs and gently squeezed them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He downed the rest of his soda and pushed off the counter, leaving the can by the sink.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>"I'll show you the dining room."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The label 'dining room' was affectionate at best, all it was was a round wooden heirloom table about two feet across the middle and two folding chairs under a lamp in the corner of the kitchen. Gerard assumed that it was only a separate space because there was a faded red rug on the floor under the set. The table had two more frames on it, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course it did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and they were both photos of MCR shows, one of which pictured Gerard front and center with a huge grin on his face. It was from the first show they'd ever played and Frank was in the front row. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nice shots." He smiled slightly and picked it up, cocking his head to the side to look at the rest of the guys in the background. "Look how tiny Mikey was." He said, even though it was only months ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank blushed. He'd forgotten that he left those out. "Look how pretty you are."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard looked away from the photo and stared down at his feet, shaking his head and smirking until Frank put his hand on the side of his face and turned his head to face him, squishing his cheek a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't shake your head at me. You gotta be nicer to yourself."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He peeled his eyes off Frank and giggled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gerard, I'm serious! You've never complimented yourself, like, ever, and you barely let me do it. Do you even believe it at all?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was silent for a while, swaying slightly as he stared at himself in the photo. He could see how happy he was, throwing himself around the stage and into every word like it was nothing, like he'd done it all his life. He saw the way all the hands reached out to him, and wondered why he never let himself understand them. He wondered why he rarely let himself believe Frank. Would he lie to him? He could just look at him and find the answer right out in front of him. He wanted so badly to walk into a room and finally have it dawn that it was all just pity sex. That never came, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was just for the status, the money, the band, the sex, anything but genuine affection. But why else was Frank in physical pain if he couldn't lay on his bare chest and trace his veins from his shoulder to his heart right that second? Why else did he gravitate towards him like all of Jupiter's moons? He scrambled for some sort of explanation, something that he could fixate on to avoid facing the truth that was already welling up in his chest. Nothing came. He just hugged the picture frame to his chest and stared blankly at the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard looked up just long enough to see Frank watching him with big, brown, puppy eyes, gently taking the frame out of his hands so he could hug him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, baby."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was his favorite pet name in Frank's long list of affection. Gerard was never one to feel like he needed to make himself small so that he could get love, he knew Frank would give it to him no matter what, but he did this time. He slowly made his way down to a spot on the rug and pulled his knees to his chest so that Frank could sit behind him and pull him against his chest, legs outstretched on either side of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just rubbed hearts into his back, laying his head on the nape of Gerard's neck. He hated seeing anyone upset, much less Gerard, and he wanted with all his heart to take all his sadness away and kiss it better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were both silent for a few minutes aside from Gerard's faint breath through his nose and the sound of Frank's lips as he kissed his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you." Gerard broke the silence, slumping back against Frank so he could rest his aching head against his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you more." He breathed, kissing his temple and holding his hands. "You're beautiful."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There you go, love."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They just sat there for a few seconds, synchronizing their slowed heart beats that marinated in the warmth of their ribs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I show you the rest of my place now, or do you wanna stay here?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Help me up and I'll go wherever you want, as long as you stay with me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Deal."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So they walked through the apartment, stopping to admire the tiny details that made Frank's space </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and the longer Gerard looked at the skyline through the floor-to-ceiling picture window that replaced an entire wall in the living room, the more he understood why he never left and why he never let anyone in. All the furniture was pointed towards the glass, except for a little sofa with a tissue box sitting on it facing the TV on the opposite wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This is where I watch the news." Frank gestured at the space that was dimly lit and bleak like most breaking stories were. Gerard exhaled through his nose a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked past the open bathroom door, and Gerard just caught sight of the half full bottle of pine-scented shampoo sitting in the shower. Would it be weird to buy himself some so he could smell him anytime he wanted? Maybe his hair would be healthier since he'd shower more… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And this," Frank paused outside of a shut door at the end of the short hallway, just to the left of a small window that overlooked the parking lot, where cars and tiny people writhed about like tiny worms about their lives. "This is my room, and- and you gotta promise me you won't think it's weird."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why would I think your room is weird?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because- just… you'll see." Frank plunged the door handle down and inside, his walls were covered in string lights that were all turned on, and the room was full of warm, golden light. It smelled just like him, almost overwhelmingly so, but in a good way. Gerard felt like he didn't have to touch him at all, he could just stand there and be surrounded by him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This is what you're so embarrassed about? Oh." Gerard's eyes met his own again in the seven posters stuck to the wall, crowded together in an intricate collage with so many other posters and printed out photos that he couldn't even see the wall underneath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was too lazy to take the ugly ass wallpaper off." He lifted up one of the posters Gerard was looking at, revealing neon pink and lime green vertical stripes. "This took me 2 days and $60 worth of poster putty and color photo print-outs at Walgreens but it was still easier than peeling off this godforsaken wallpaper and painting it black just so my room would stink like a chemical bomb."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank's desk was covered in stacks of scratchily written poems, thickly lined ink sketches, and unopened envelopes addressed to him in cursive with stamps depicting bloody crucifixions. No matter what he did, his family still tried to drag him back in. Frank never let them anywhere near him, tearing up each one, pocketing the cash, burning them one at a time, mixing the ash with olive oil and using it as paint. His bookshelf was crammed with worn out books that he'd read at least five times each, dropped down stairs and puddles, written in, doodled in, marked to shit, and God knows what, rows of figurines and knick-knacks lining the top of it that reflected the lights in all directions to make the whole place glow even more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're never gonna leave are you?" They both sat down right next to each other on the bed, which was plush from the heavy weighted blanket and layers of comforters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope." Gerard scooted a little closer to Frank, putting his head on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, are we still going on that drive tonight? If we go now we could watch the sunset."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. That'd be nice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank helped him up from the bed, turning off every strand of light with the single switch by the door on his way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you wanna drive?" Gerard dug around for his keys in his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good. I wanna show you my favorite part of town."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They'd left the bag of dye and bleach in the car, so he tossed it onto the floor behind him. He tapped Gerard's shoulder as he reached into his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You did not…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank pulled a handful of ketchup packet sized pouches of oxblood red dye samples out of his pocket. "I wanna try something new with my sides after this job."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're an idiot but your mind works in amazing ways, man."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard turned over his shoulder and slowly backed out, glanced at Frank for a few seconds, put the car in drive, and crept out of the lot. Once he got out to the bustling street, time stopped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like they were in the car for hours. They watched the sunset well into its wake and kissed behind the windshield, watching over the tops of cars, drowning in the headlights. The sky was a deep pink, Gerard's favorite. The darker it got, the more the traffic lightened up and he could speed down the empty streets. Frank was relieved to go over 40. At first he wasn't sure if the silver hatchback could even get over 5000rpm or if it had a fourth gear at all. Gerard stopped at the first few red lights, drifting from civilization and the last few watchful eyes further and further till he just gave up. Speeding down the outskirts of town, windows down, blasting whatever the hell was on the radio, they didn't care. All they knew was that it made them laugh like nothing mattered. Every now and then a lonely car would pass and Frank could sense their desolation, then they were gone in a second and he'd forget. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air was warm but soothing, spring finally starting to feel like it was taking itself seriously. It took Persephone till May to remember her routine. No one blamed her, though. Frank's hand waved at the moon suspended in darkness outside the window, fingers delicately pressing the edges of the headlights' beams like piano keys.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, here it is." Gerard started to slow down a bit so he could take one hand off the steering wheel and rest his arm on the sill of the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank relaxed his own arm against the door outside. "Woods?'</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, it's small, like half a mile, but peaceful. Sometimes I see deer, foxes, raccoons, jackrabbits, and once I saw Mitch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank brought his eyebrow and cheek almost to meet. "Who's Mitch?" Frank envisioned a '</span>
  <em>
    <span>Florida Man' </span>
  </em>
  <span>figure who caused problems in the forests of the New Jersey outskirts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mitch is my silver cat. I found him just walking around and so I kept him. He always hides when people come over, though, so that's why you've never seen him. I've tried to get him to like you by wrapping him in the blankets you sleep on but he doesn't really care that much. Poor thing…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He must be a clean boy because I've never seen any hair on you or smelled anything when I'm at your house."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, he's weird. His favorite thing is taking baths in the sink. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a clean boy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank tried to picture what this bath-loving silver forest cat looked like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Now, the kick to the punch." Gerard pulled up next to a gas station shrouded in overgrowth, weeds growing out of the seams in the pavement, graffiti covering the walls and tinted windows. A bright red 'god loves fags.' was sprawled across the front of the building. "I put that beauty on there when I was 17." He pointed at it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank tilted his head to the right and furrowed his eyebrows. "Bullshit." He said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's true! First- and last- time I ever drank vodka. Grey Goose is a nasty bitch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can see why." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard pulled into one of the parking spots in the front, directly underneath a street lamp. "Get the bag. I always come here to dye my hair, it's like a tradition."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Seriously, dude? You can't do it at your own house?" Frank grabbed it anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why would I do that? This is way more fun." Once they were both out of the car, Gerard locked the doors and took Frank's hand, tugging him in through the automatic doors into the dismal, empty store playing whatever metal radio station that shuffle landed on this week, stocked to the brim with every type of candy he could ever want. Frank's sweet tooth throbbed in the back of his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're back! Haven't seen you in a while, Mr. Way... and boyfriend?" The man behind the counter stood up to shake his hand, but Gerard just waved and ran back to the bathroom with Frank. "We sell condoms, Gerard- oh." He didn't hear him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the cleanest dirty bathroom Frank had seen, stained porcelain sink and dirty grout, but the walls were scrubbed and bright white. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He loved the word boyfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Boyfriend?" Frank squeezed Gerard's hand as he locked the deadbolt on the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You bet." He took the bag from Frank's fingers so he could take the bleach out, ripping the box open and mixing it within a minute. "Where do you want it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank bounced a little. "Sides."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You bet." Gerard orbited around him, snapping latex gloves on mere seconds before he scooped out some of the solution from the plastic bowl with his fingers. "Want me to count to 3?" He teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cut the bullshit, Gee."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Take your shirt off."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did just that and without any hesitation, he saturated the sides of Frank's head with the bleach, taking extra time to twist his favorite curls in between his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he finished, he tossed the gloves in the trash can and took his own shirt off. "Do my roots. Right here till about here." He pointed at the part line above his right eyebrow where his hair swooped up in an arch that constantly fell in his face, all the way to the back of his head, outlining an inch wide section down the whole thing. "Should take about the same time to do mine and develop yours at the same time."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"On it." Frank put only one glove on and repeated what Gerard had done, taking his time to massage each strand all the way down to the root. He kept his bare hand on Gerard's shoulder, thumb sliding back and forth every now and then. "You're beautiful." He repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard rinsed the bleach out of Frank's hair first, hardly needing to bend him over the sink that much, working it out of every strand with the pads of his fingers. The lukewarm, plastic-y, metallic water ran down his forehead, so he had to keep his eyes and mouth shut, but it only took a couple minutes and then his head was wrapped in a long sheet of paper towels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We forgot real towels… sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck you." But Frank didn't care. He just wanted Gerard to rub his skull again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was thorough for Gerard's turn, taking how sensitive and precise he treated him and doubling it, working both his hands in and making little efforts to touch Gerard with his torso every now and then just to watch him relax further into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he finished, Gerard stood up, cracked his back, caught his cheeks and kissed him, getting his face all wet. Frank laughed and dragged his dripping hands down Gerard's chest and then unrolled the paper towel dispenser to dry off his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're lucky I still like you." Gerard flipped his bangs out of his eyes, patting his hair with the towels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're luckier, I love you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like clockwork already. Gerard worked the dark, dusty, passionate pink into the brassy sides of Frank's hair, stopping to kiss the back of his neck from time to time. Frank tried not to succumb to his heavy eyelids, the kindness of the weight of his hands calming him down with every stroke. By the time he was sure he couldn't stay awake any longer, Gerard pulled him up by his shoulders with warm hands. He had no idea what time it was, but he knew that he didn't want to stay up any longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My turn!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank had no idea how Gerard was so fucking wired all the time, like he had a permanent drip of caffeine straight to the brain. Or maybe it was the dopamine and oxytocin cocktail he downed gallons of each time he touched him, filling him up to the brim. He loved that he wanted him so badly that it fueled him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You still want the pink?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard nodded, analyzing the coverage of his roots, splotchy bronze and near sheet white that was just enough to get the color to stick. "Do it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Frank used up the last of the pink dye, scraping every last bit out of the pot and the creases in his gloves. He was so in love with Gerard. Pink waves of light blinked and danced around the corners of his vision and he was whole, so whole, and buzzing with it. He couldn't stop leaning forward to kiss down his back as he rinsed his hair, lovingly pawing at his scalp with callused fingertips. He almost didn't want it to end because he knew Gerard's touch would put him right to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it nearly did. All he could think about was lavender. Peace, love, easy, like the best thing he'd ever felt. It wasn't just Gerard's scent, though that was part of it, it hung in the air like a thick fog and sedated him. He dried his hair for him, apologizing profusely for the scraping of the brown paper and how much it took to get anything done. Frank was half asleep while Gerard was putting his shirt back on him and tossing all the empty containers in the trash.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked him up and carried him, bridal style, out to the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Looks nice, Gerard." The guy behind the counter looked up from his phone for a second to give him a thumbs up and then carried on scrolling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard hummed at him and kept walking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He set Frank down in the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt and kissing him on the forehead. He was so in love with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he turned the key in the ignition and drove Frank home, carried him up to his apartment, laid him on his bed, slid his jeans off, tucked him under the blankets, and kissed him long goodnight. But just as he was about to leave he started to stir, and Gerard couldn't bring himself to leave and make him wake up alone. So he stepped out of his jeans and climbed into bed under all his blankets next to him, remembering how good it felt when Frank rolled on his side to put his head on his chest and tie their legs up in knots. He knew that he slept better when every inch of his body was touching Gerard's, so he rested his hand on Frank's hip and fell asleep watching him breathe.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. v</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>!! zing!! this chapter is quite long, but it didn't actually take me very long to write. i'm happy with how it turned out, though. </p><p>p.s. if you want to get in my yearning mood, i suggest the car wheels on a gravel road album by lucinda williams. </p><p>i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do ! </p><p>follow me if u want 2:<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>cast all your spells </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Frank woke up to the quiet, bassy vibrations of Gerard's voice in his chest as he sang to him. </p><p>
  <em>"Drunken angel, you're on the other side…" </em>
</p><p>He was just a little bit too warm, but not enough to do anything about it. He wanted to stay here forever, breathing in his scent, absorbing his heat and the feeling of his body. Gerard had his hand resting firmly on Frank's hip, and he could feel his pulse running through his arm all the way up his back. This man was magic. He felt at home in the forest again, the whistling of the wind in the flowers and the brush and the hue of the sun and the perfume of the pines drawing him into welcoming arms. There was his voice again, a babbling brook fed by the spring, refreshingly cool and guided by polished stone. Waking up next to Gerard never got any closer to casual. Of course, it felt right, normal, destined, if you will, but the disorientation of morning was near its demolition. Dread and its companions never visited when he opened his eyes to see Gerard in bed with him, they were watching at his window, sure, but they retreated once he recognized the poetically metered breath against his face. Clockwork. Waking up next to someone after you didn't expect them to stay is a special kind of sugar, one that satisfies Frank's sweet tooth. </p><p>Gerard was intoxicating. Frank laid there on his chest, listening to him muse on in a whisper, taking him in and recording everything to write down later. He could write a book the size of a cinder block about him and still have more to say. None of his words gave it any justice, he felt his heart overflowing with thought too quickly to mop up, gushing out on the floor and staining the sheets he and Gerard were encased in like a cocoon, innards converted to mush as he decayed in syrupy remains. </p><p><em>"Drunken angel, you're on the other-"</em> Gerard abruptly stopped his song, rubbing the sleep from Frank's left eye. "You're up."</p><p>"No I'm not, go back to singing. I'm not here." He squeezed his arm a little tighter around Gerard's waist.</p><p>"But you can hear me now, it's weird."</p><p>"Baby, you're literally a singer. People can always hear you."</p><p>Gerard smiled with his cheeks, pushing his lips together and bringing his whole face up along with the sun and the aura of the year.</p><p>Frank moved his hand from its place on Gerard's waist to right over his heart, lightly pressing into his skin with his fingertips to feel the rhythm of his pulse. He wasn't sure why he loved it so much, maybe some sort of confirmation that this was indeed a real memory he was making, further reasoning to prove that he was lovable, contrary to the popular belief drilled into the living room floor by his family. The two seconds that he was half-convinced that he had corrupted the very soil he walked on and was worth less than an inflating penny was still, to date, the most fear he had ever felt. The little things always helped. So he drew a heart on Gerard's sternum through his shirt and sunk further into his touch, falling asleep.</p><p>Frank woke up again to an empty bed about two hours later and Gerard's shirt was laying in the spot where he used to be. He pictured what he'd look like walking around his apartment shirtless for a split second before he crawled out of bed to go chase him and the image.</p><p>And there he was, just in his jeans, in the kitchen making black tea, and singing Early Sunsets to himself. His pink roots were vivid in the morning sunlight through the windows.</p><p>"Good morning, love." He looked over his shoulder at Frank, still stirring hibiscus flowers and rosehips clockwise and alternating counterclockwise into the mug.</p><p>"You found my tea stash." Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard's hips again.</p><p>"I can smell it. Any witch can find a tea bag from six miles away." He put the spoon down and rubbed his palms together three times. Satisfied, he took a sip. "Mm. Try some, Frankie."</p><p>Gerard kept one of his hands on his mug as he lifted it to Frank's mouth, letting him set his own hands on top and look him in the eye. </p><p>"The hell did you put in this? It's like biting into a flower, but, in a good way."</p><p>"Magic. And flowers."</p><p>"You said you were a witch, right? What do you do?" </p><p>Gerard stuck his pinkie out like he always did and set his tea down on the dining table next to an olive green musette bag. "Come see." From there he pulled out a hardcover book, embellished with a gold leaf celestial map of the solar system. He ran his fingers over the cover before he opened it. </p><p>The book was full of bottle spells, moon rituals, herbal remedies, hexes, assessments, nature observations, prayer feedback, everything under the sun and beyond it. The pages smelled like lavender. Gerard's cursive was neat and thick, every now and then there was a dark spot where he let his fountain pen linger, contemplative in his reviews. As Frank skimmed the writings, he could understand why Gerard was- Gerard. The way he enthused about nature, the way he listened to the signs of the spirits around him, the way he was honest about when shit didn't work out; but the thing that stood out to him the most was how much he praised all the realms around him. It was clear as day that he was in love with everything, pensive and with a watchful eye, giving deep thanks at the feet of whitened dandelions for blessing his walk with a wish to blow out that would come true a week later. The pages listing out his hexes and uncrossing rituals were littered with crossed out misspellings and sigils, small boxes of text in the margins like <em>'protect me'</em> written three times. There were full names of people scribbled out, pen marks moving outward, and sealed with drops of black wax and smeared with ash. But Frank's favorite page, out of all of them, was a rather recent one outlining handfasting values. Red, white, and dark, dusty, passionate pink ribbon to <em>'bind me to him as eternally as the strength of thine rope will it so.'</em></p><p>"Frankie, how do you feel about doing one of these?" He put his pointer finger on the page, interrupting Frank's reading. "It's like, not a wedding, but spiritually, it kind of is. I'm not legally tied to you but my soul is." </p><p>It took all Frank had not to agree wholeheartedly, the idea of running away and eloping with Gerard captured him in a trance. He tried to be rational, even though he didn't know why he felt he had to. "We've only been together for…" Frank couldn't even remember how long it'd been.</p><p>"I know, but every ounce of my intuition needs to make sure I have you before-" </p><p>"Before what?" </p><p>"I'm sorry." Gerard stopped himself too late. It seemed like the fear in his heart was at its boiling point, and Frank knew that he hated showing that. He knew because he felt the same way. </p><p>"It's okay, I know, love." Frank reached up to stroke Gerard's temple, brushing his hair out of his face. </p><p>"I just love you, alright? And it's uncertain now, everything, so I just want to make sure of one thing."</p><p>"I love you too. That sounds lovely. It's like you said before, running from it doesn't make it any less real. I'd rather spend the time we might have left with you doing stupid magic than never knowing what the risk could've been." Frank was beaming, the smug look on his face giving away all Gerard needed to know. He loved that he remembered his little tangents. </p><p>He opened the bag again, pulled out a tube of mint lip balm, put some on, and took a big mouthful of tea. He furrowed his brow for a few seconds, like he was trying to figure something out, before shrugging and swallowing a couple gulps. </p><p>"You okay?" Frank took another little drink out of the mug. </p><p>"I swallowed a rosehip." He cleared his throat. </p><p>"Hun, I love you, so much, but you know I have a strainer." </p><p>"Then the magic's gone. Not like it's gonna hurt me or anything, I just didn't expect that at 10am."</p><p>"You're an idiot. But I love you."</p><p>"I love you too. I love you with every drop of potion that I am filled with and by way of every ounce of energy put forth by this hand comes a hundred pounds of weightless reward."</p><p>"I have no idea what you just said but you should fucking kiss me." </p><p>And he did. </p><p>Gerard lingered an inch from his lips for a moment, eyes closed, giving him time to just watch him. The bright white city sun settled on Gerard's pale skin, rectangular prisms of light molding to every curve and fold in his frame, an ethereal window into the world of things he loved about him. It was jam-packed and stuffed with endless scrolls and every time he spoke, Frank added a new line. </p><p>And Gerard <em>was</em> gorgeous. The sun hit his hazel eyes just right, turning his eyelashes white like winter, a cold fringe around the heat in his irises. The tendrils of mid-fall shivered at the door to the blizzard, and he was dusted with snow. Gerard was the four seasons: lush, sweltering, windy, frozen, he was nature, powerful and erupting with beauty everywhere Frank looked. There wasn't a single part of him that was anything short of that. </p><p>"Frankie," he started, turning his eyes from the skyline on the other side of the glass to his boyfriend. "I thank my goddesses every day for you. I'm always praising their blessings, but, today… today I'm overwhelmed with it."</p><p>Frank didn't say anything. He loved that nickname so much. He had no idea how to respond to something as luscious and rich as Gerard letting his spirituality unravel. It was like he could see right into him. And it wasn't that he couldn't before, but Gerard always cloaked himself in a thin veil of mystery, finding comfort in the uncertainty and letting people wonder about him. The more Frank learned about him, the more he fell for him. He just adored how Gerard spoke when he really thought about what he was saying, focusing on every word and talking in incantations like he was casting the richest love spell on him that he could without lifting a finger. </p><p>"So how do you do one of these handfastings?" Frank asked, still watching the words move on the page. </p><p>"Well, I gotta call someone, either Ray or Mikey, probably Ray, to read off that incantation and tie us up, then-" </p><p>Frank raised his eyebrows. "I like where this is going." </p><p>"Shut up." Gerard laid his palm flat on the book. He couldn't help but laugh, though. "Anyway," He tried to stifle more snickering to mask the image of actually tying Frank up. "Then once that's done and we're both in the ribbons, we say vows, get our wrists out of them without undoing the knot, kiss and stuff. Then we keep the ribbons tied as they are, doesn't matter where we put them, though."</p><p>Frank smiled, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. He loved the idea. He was in the mood to do something, <em>anything,</em> reckless with Gerard, so tying his soul to his sounded like the easiest way to make sure he never left his sight. </p><p>"I'm in." </p><p>"Alright, I'll call Ray."</p><p>"Okay, but-... just give me a second..."</p><p>Frank couldn't sit still anymore. Gerard's skin was soft through the holes in his jeans, smooth and like silk against Frank's, who, after tossing his shirt off to exchange his heat with something better, straddled Gerard's lap, hands up and down his neck and pulling in his hair. The rough stubble under his jaw was one of Frank's favorite spots to press the calluses on his fingers into, the delicate sensation was the only thing he could feel through the thick, numbed skin. He just sat there, staring at him for a bit, watching the way the light hit the pink patch in his hair. He almost didn't want to kiss him, afraid that if he closed his eyes he'd miss him, but the pull was like a planet to the sun, spinning and never stopping, hurling through an endless space with only one goal: stay as close as possible, separation will result in immediate demise. Frank's orbit was tight, magnetic fields tangling like his hands in Gerard's hair, projecting shots of aurora through his vision in a vibrant solar storm. He loved it when Gerard rubbed his back, always resting one hand on the waistband of his jeans. No wonder he liked to wear them so low. </p><p>Frank kissed down Gerard's neck, settling on his collarbones and following the rhythm of his pulse and the way he twitched when he breathed into his weight. </p><p>"Your hair is beautiful." Gerard always showered Frank with compliments when he kissed his neck because he knew he was too occupied with sucking little bruises to protest. "You're incredible. Has anyone ever told you that? You're just- fucking wonderful."</p><p>"mmph" </p><p>"I mean, if someone would've told me that being horny after a show would've led me straight to an angel I would've thought you were telling me I was gonna die on stage."</p><p>Frank pulled away and looked into his eyes. "Oh, shut up."</p><p>Gerard smirked at him, pushing his hands under Frank's thighs and standing up to carry him back to bed. "You can't make me, but you can sure as hell try."</p><p>"No, don't stop talking, your voice is fucking <em>hot</em> from right here, just stop being all poetic and fuck me." </p><p>"Lo, says the poet, Frank." </p><p>He shot him a blank look, annoyed, and kissed him on the mouth. "I said shut up." </p><p>Gerard giggled. "Come on now," He bounced Frank up a little as he walked, adjusting his hands under his ass and kissing him again. "Is that any way to talk?" </p><p>"nmm" </p><p>"That's what I thought." Gerard let Frank down on the bed before shutting the door and pushing the chair at Frank's desk under the knob. </p><p>"What are you doing?" He whined. "No one ever comes over, and even if they want to, I never let them." </p><p>Gerard climbed on top of him in the bed and immediately kissed his belly. "I want you all to myself."</p><p>"I can…" Frank trailed off. </p><p>The afternoon sun was torrid and high in the sky now, pouring in through Frank's bedroom window. He pulled the sheet over his face because he hated how much he just glowed after he slept with Gerard, no matter how many times he told him it made him <em>so very</em> beautiful, he was still embarrassed. </p><p>Frank could smell his sweat, laying on Gerard's chest, tracing the blue lace from his shoulder to his heart like he always loved to. </p><p>Gerard spoke slowly, breath hitching and heavy in between every couple words. "If I call Ray- right now, and have him… uh, meet us at my place, will you- will you get all cleaned up in half an hour?" </p><p>Frank nodded. He kissed him on the mouth and took one last deep breath, before rolling out of bed and grabbing two new pairs of boxers from his dresser and pulling Gerard into the bathroom. </p><p>He leaned against the tile of the shower while the water just washed over him, just hot enough that it matched Gerard's heat like he was still touching him, even if he wasn't.</p><p>"I'll wash your hair for you, baby." </p><p>"I love you." </p><p>Frank forgot how much he loved it when Gerard massaged his scalp with his fingertips.</p><p>"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Gerard essentially had to support Frank's weight as he slowly relaxed into his touch. </p><p>"No, you didn't, I'm just exhausted." </p><p>"Good." He turned around to wash his own hair, letting Frank lean against his back and wrap his arms around him. He was sure he'd fall asleep and hit the floor if he didn't. </p><p>Frank always slept after sex, passing out almost instantly after he came, and he couldn't tell if it was the extreme lack of conditioning for any physical activity that left his body completely empty and stricken, or if Gerard was just that good, but he was spending all this time trying to think of which method to use to ensure he looked like he could walk normally once he got to Gerard's place. It wasn't like the guys didn't already know, that was his first impression on them after all, but if he was gonna be a long term member of the band, he wanted to make a lasting image of himself that wasn't just centered around getting his guts rearranged. </p><p>Gerard turned back around, lifting Frank's arms to wash him up, and his nerves were still wired and alive. </p><p>He turned the water off and wrapped Frank in a towel, hugging him tight to his chest. "You ready? I'll make you some tea with some caffeine in it. That'll help."</p><p>Frank just nodded again. The excitement was building a bit, his impulses climbing out from the depths of his brain and dousing him in just enough adrenaline to shakily pull his boxers up to his hips. Gerard did the same, kissing Frank's forehead and walking out the door to get an entirely new outfit out of the musette bag for himself, and a few minutes later he returned with a plain dark red t-shirt from Frank's closet and a pair of black jeans. He was dressed quickly, holding Frank's hand as he stepped into the jeans. He looked up at Gerard for a second, eyes big, the slight of a smile curling the edges of his mouth up. It was then that he knew this was right. <em>Somehow.</em> Somehow this was gonna get them somewhere. <em>'This is as close as I can get to marrying you right this second.' </em></p><p>Gerard was wearing black jeans and a black button-up with the sleeves rolled just below his elbows and he looked beautiful. </p><p>"I've had this outfit planned for years. Crazy how you just happen to have the exact one. Come on." Gerard pulled Frank out into the kitchen and filled the electric kettle with water while Frank shuffled his way to one of the sofas facing the window. </p><p>"You okay, bub?" </p><p>"I'm fine." He wasn't just fine. He was fucking buzzing, just too tired to show it. He was begging to touch Gerard again, pulling towards him. His brain was full of racing thoughts, like a bottle tipped over, and if he wasn't so weak he'd be bouncing off the walls. </p><p>Gerard plopped down on the couch next to him, finally, grabbing both his hands and kissing his knuckles one by one. </p><p>"I love you." Frank scanned Gerard's body, mostly at the way it flowed under his clothes, and how his shirt framed his torso just perfectly. He was so in love. </p><p>"I love you too. Is this still okay with you? If it's too soon, I- I get it." </p><p>"No-" Frank cut him off. "No, I- it's okay. It's great. I still want this. I still want… you."</p><p>Gerard lingered on him for a few seconds, reading him, before he got up to pour the water over the teabags. </p><p>"Five minutes, baby. Then we can go."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>Gerard sat down at the dining table, just in Frank's field of vision, tapping on his phone and lifting it to his ear.</p><p>
  <em>"Hey Toro." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, I'm good, uh, hey, listen, could you meet me at my house in a few?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Nothing bad-... yeah I'm fine, I need you for something. Personal stuff." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You can? Sick."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, I'll tell you everything when we get there."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm not being weird! Shut up, Ray, we'll get there."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yes, we, what?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It's Frank, you know, the guitarist." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Okay, just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I hoped you remembered who he was."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Okay, see you in ten. Bye." </em>
</p><p>Gerard's phone voice was quieter than his speaking voice, soft and sweet. </p><p>He stuffed his phone in his pocket and bobbed the teabags up and down a couple times before pouring the tea into a travel mug and taking it to Frank. </p><p>"Ready?" He held his hand out for him to take. </p><p>"For you? Always." Frank took a big mouthful of the strong, bitter, plain black tea, swallowing it and taking another deep breath. </p><p>He took Gerard's hand and walked with him to the silver hatchback out in the lot, no longer caring how he looked doing so: holding a guy's hand, hair still slightly damp, limping down the hall. The couple that walked past them as they came out of the apartment must've heard them earlier, because one of them spoke up. </p><p>"Nice performance this morning, faggots." </p><p>Frank stopped dead in his tracks, caffeine starting to kick in. </p><p>"Say it again, asshole." </p><p>"Frank," Gerard squeezed his hand, trying to pull him along, but it didn't do much. </p><p>The guy didn't stop walking. </p><p>"What? Scared now, pussy?" </p><p><em>"Frank."</em> Gerard was stern now, putting a firm grip on his shoulder, enough so that it made Frank weak again. </p><p>Gerard finally got him to start walking again, but he turned around one last time. </p><p>"Your girlfriend fakes her orgasms!" </p><p><em>"Frank!"</em> Gerard raised his voice and yanked him down the hall this time. He'd never done that before. </p><p>"Sorry." He whimpered. </p><p>Gerard didn't say anything, tightly holding his hand and walking fast until they safely got to the car.</p><p>"Gerard, I'm sorry." </p><p>He still didn't speak. He just hugged him and put his hand on the back of Frank's head to bury him in his chest. He was silent for a minute. </p><p>"I ruined our night, didn't I?" </p><p>"You fucking scare me sometimes, Frank Iero. Jesus Christ."</p><p>"I'm sorry. I just- I wasn't thinking- I'm so tired-" </p><p>"Shh…" Gerard kissed the top of his head. "I'm not mad at <em>you.</em> Who knows how much anger that guy had in him? You know? He could've beat your ass, Frankie, or worse-" He swallowed a lump in his throat and pet Frank's hair. "It's not just because of our night, it's not like I suddenly decided that I expected you to keep it cool when we first saw that guy, I mean, I just <em>knew</em> he was gonna start shit just by looking at him, it's just- you can't just give guys like that what they want. That has potential to end very, very badly and I don't know what I would do with myself if anything happened to you, and I'm not too keen on finding out."</p><p>Frank squeezed Gerard a little tighter. "I'm still sorry." </p><p>"It's okay. I love you so much, okay?" </p><p>"I love you too."</p><p>"Let's get going, love." Gerard watched Frank all the way into his seatbelt, making sure no one was standing around anywhere, and slowly backed out of the parking space. </p><p>Once they got to Gerard's house, Ray was sitting on the porch, tapping on his phone, and he looked up when the car pulled into the driveway. Frank was still staring at his lap, feeling down, even after Gerard had been cooing at him the whole time. He hadn't heard him raise his voice to say his name like that unless he was bucking his hips and gasping, so Frank was replaying it in his head over and over. </p><p>Gerard opened his door and stood up to walk Ray to his door and brief him on his plans. </p><p>"You look nice." He said, shaking Gerard's hand like he'd just met him, even though he'd known him for years. "Hey, Frank." Ray waved at him. "You two- your hair, holy shit, you match. That's so cool."</p><p>He'd climbed out of the car now, left hand heavy in his pocket while he drank the last of his tea with the other. </p><p>"Hi, Ray."</p><p>Ray had a look on his face that just screamed <em>'what the hell did I just agree to?'</em> But he shrugged it off. It seemed like this wasn't the weirdest favor he'd done for Gerard. </p><p>"You alright there?" Ray's voice was so soft. He could talk for hours and no one would ever get sick of him. </p><p>Frank's nose twitched and he pushed earlier into the back of his mind. "Yeah, I'm fine, just excited." </p><p>"Cool."</p><p>As they walked in the door, Frank caught a glimpse of a smile on Gerard's face. </p><p>"So, what you're telling me is… you've known this boy for… months? And you wanna marry him, but like, not actually marry him, so you're gonna… magically marry him?" </p><p>They only walked through the house for a minute or two, but Frank took this time to inhale as much of Gerard's scent as he could. It calmed his nerves. </p><p>"Yep!" Gerard opened his book again, setting it down in the grass of the backyard under the shade of the oak tree. Frank had never been back here before. "I'll be right back, hold on." He stepped barefoot over the stepping stone path from where they were standing to the back door, careful to make sure he stepped evenly on each one. He was in the house for a few minutes.</p><p>Frank was silent, brewing up all the racing thoughts again. He was really doing this. Gerard had explained it enough times that he understood what it was, but the shock still hadn't set in. Frank's brain wasn't very good at processing the huge amounts of joy he'd been feeling over the several months that he'd known Gerard. It only found its release in oxytocin. </p><p><em>"Well."</em> Ray sighed. "You really like him, don't you?"</p><p>"Yeah… he's just- he's incredible, right?" Frank looked up and smiled, looking in awe. </p><p>"Oh, <em>I</em> don't know <em>exactly</em> what you mean, but I've been working with the guy for a year and change in My Chem and I've known him for years, and he outdoes himself every single time."</p><p>"What do you mean you don't know? You've known him for longer than I have." Frank shifted his weight a little bit, getting impatient. </p><p>"I mean, you guys couldn't wait till the honeymoon?" Ray pointed at the hickey just barely poking out from the collar of Frank's shirt. </p><p>Before he could come up with a joke about how much Gerard turned him on, the man in question appeared again, holding a small woven basket. Inside were three spools of satin ribbon, red, pink, and white, a pink-bladed athame, a small metal pitcher of water, and a small burlap pouch. </p><p>"Okay," He set it down in the grass at Ray's feet. "So, these," He picked them up. "These are the ribbons. You know how to do an infinity knot, right?" </p><p>Ray nodded. <em>Of course he knew. </em></p><p>"Sweet. So, how this is gonna look is I'm gonna have you two stand over by the rose bushes, and I'm gonna cast a circle, and when I call you over, Frank, you'll stand right here." Gerard pointed to a patch of grass across from him. "And then, Ray, you'll stand there." He pointed to another spot. "Then I'll call on Aphrodite and say a short prayer, and, Ray, you'll read those lines in red, lay the red ribbon on mine and Frank's wrists while we hold hands like this." </p><p>Gerard took Frank's hands and crossed one over the other. </p><p>"After that, you'll read the pink lines, do the pink one, so on and so on. Once you've laid them all down, say the lines in black, the blessing right there, and then tie them all in that infinity knot."</p><p>Frank was so in love with him. </p><p>"After you tie it, it's all in order, by the way, we'll say vows, then you read the bottom, me and Frank will wiggle out of the ribbons without untying the knot, kiss, leave an offering, and I'll close the circle. Can you do that?" </p><p>Ray nodded. He looked like he absorbed all of that, somehow, and actually had a grip on reality, unlike Frank, who was so enchanted by Gerard that he could hardly stand. </p><p>"And most importantly, Frankie, can you do this?" </p><p>He wanted to kiss Gerard so bad. He decided to just nod and say yes so he could do that as soon as possible. </p><p>"Awesome. If we start now we'll kiss at sunset. You ready?" </p><p>Frank's breath hitched in his throat. </p><p>"For you? Always."</p><p>"Perfect. You can go to the roses now. Pick some if you want to. I'll put the petals in your hair, Frankie."</p><p>The nickname was starting to stick. Frank wasn't sure who liked it most. </p><p>As Gerard casted the circle, Ray put his hand on Frank's shoulder, book still in hand. "Scratch what I asked earlier. You love him, don't you?" </p><p>"I would fucking die for him." Frank plucked a plump, deep red rose head off the bush next to him, pinching the stem with his nails until it popped off. </p><p>They both just watched Gerard wave his athame in four directions, a ruby-colored dagger with a black handle, mumbling little chants to himself. He looked so peaceful. </p><p>"Look, I hope you know how much Gerard loves you. That month or so that he didn't see you, when we were recording, he never stopped talking about the way you play guitar. He still never shuts up about you."</p><p>Frank blushed. He knew that if he had friends around like Gerard did, he'd do the same thing. </p><p>"Oh, and by the way, you don't have to pretend that this is some professional only thing: you and me and Mikey. If you need somebody to talk to, not necessarily about Gee, we're all friends here and that includes you."</p><p>"Thanks, Ray."</p><p>"Anytime, man. He mentioned that you don't go out much, so I just wanted to make sure you knew that you're always welcome with us."</p><p>Gerard called Ray over to join his circle, and Frank watched how absolutely graceful he looked as he directed the space with his little knife, swinging it to and fro like it was nothing but everything all at once. </p><p>Then it was his turn and he stood across from Gerard, a few feet back and adjacent to Ray, classical officiant-couple style like every wedding he'd been to before. </p><p>Gerard pulled some of the petals off of the flower in Frank's hand and stuck them in his hair as best he could, the rest he just scattered onto the grass. </p><p>They all joined hands while Gerard prayed out loud, gorgeous flowing invocations that sounded like he'd written them himself. Once he finished, Ray started right on cue. </p><p>As he read the first lines, Frank's heartbeat quickened. He looked up at Gerard, who was absolutely raving, smiling ear to ear at him. Their eyes met and it was like everything was okay. Nothing mattered; not the man from earlier, not the election, not the soreness starting to develop in the backs of his thighs, nothing. It was like all three of them were surrounded by a bubble of golden light, and it wasn't just dusk speaking. </p><p>Gerard tenderly took Frank's hands in his, one crossed over the other, and Ray laid the first long strip of red ribbon over their wrists. </p><p>"...May the crimson hue of this cord strengthen this bond of passion undying..."</p><p>Frank couldn't hear most of what Ray was saying. He could barely stand still. With every second that passed the energy grew stronger around him, auras dancing in his vision again as the stripe of red thumped against the rich, green grass. Everything was vibrating at a frequency that made Frank feel like, if he focused hard enough, he could levitate and fly away. </p><p>"There you are." Gerard whispered, blinking lightly. </p><p>Then the pink. Gerard's favorite color, he guessed, since it matched the dye in their hair and he wanted everything around him to do the same. </p><p>"...May the magenta hue of this cord strengthen this bond of kindness…" </p><p>Frank's hands were sweaty in Gerard's, so were his, he could feel the desperation pulsing off of him. His breathing sped up and they were both in sync, hearts beating in time. </p><p>Finally, the white. It was a bright, stark white, melding in and contrasting perfectly with Gerard's pale skin. </p><p>Ray was starting to feel the energy now, too, he read a little faster. </p><p>"...And may the white hue of this cord strengthen the bond of everlasting purity…"</p><p>
  <em>Something, something, something. </em>
</p><p>"Sacred Divinity and Aphrodite, goddess of love, bless this bond between these two souls, as you will it…" Ray squinted a bit at the page. "So mote it be, brightest blessings, blessed be." </p><p>He set the book down in the grass, took the ends of the ribbons, and tied them all, effortlessly, into an infinity shape over the tops of their hands. </p><p>Frank couldn't take it anymore. The ribbon was tight, rubbing against the side of his wrist, which only made the tension even worse. It felt like his chest was open, like he couldn't breathe, even though his lungs were full of oxygen. He hadn't felt this vulnerable in ages, but he just had to hold on for a few minutes more. </p><p>Gerard's voice was clear as day. While everything was swirling around him, that was his one comfort. </p><p>"Frank, when I met you, it was like everything on Earth was okay. You are like no one I've ever seen before. I see a beautiful forest every time I touch you, and it makes me drunk. Every time I left after seeing you, I would try and write the vows I would give someday, but nothing ever worked just right. Nothing ever described how I feel about you. It's endless. I can't put how much I love you in words. I can't physically describe how badly I want to protect you from everything, and everyone, and take all your pain away. I vow to never let you out of my sight. After everything in this country, and today, that's my biggest wish. Everything else, you already know. Frank, I love you with my whole soul and it is bound to you."</p><p>Frank just burst into tears. He couldn't think. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do anything. He spoke through sobs and squeezed Gerard's hands like they would give him the strength he needed. And they did. He just cut himself open and let his fluids drain out. </p><p>"You've- you've always been the one who's… who's had everything together. It's like I've known you f-forever." <em>sniff.</em> "And nothing could have prepared me to meet you. Nothing. I-... I'm completely enamored by you. Everything you do, from the way you hold me when I cry to how you always know what the hell I'm thinking somehow, it just… it just feels like you're meant to be here. With me. I see the forest, too, it's the most amazing place I've never been to, and- and I would love to spend the rest of my life there with you. I never- I didn't even get a chance to think of what to say to you for vows because everytime I look at you I'm left completely speechless. I-... I guess… I promise- I vow… to support you forever. In everything. Because I will. I will love you forever and it's overwhelming. I can't handle this, it's- it's too much for me, everything is <em>so</em> much, but you balance it out. You make everything perfect. I love you, Gerard, I love you. And I always will."</p><p>Neither of them could stand still anymore, a tear rolled down Gerard's cheek and Frank itched with anticipation. </p><p>Ray read off the last lines and the second he shut the grimoire, Gerard was already pulling his hands away. It took some wrestling, and the ball of stone in Frank's chest only grew heavier. </p><p>Finally, their hands were free and Ray caught the ribbons as Gerard jumped forward and stuck his tongue down Frank's throat as fast as he could. The energy was at its strongest now, and the sky was a deep shade of pink all around them. Frank's ears were ringing and he was still crying, just harder now, pulling at Gerard so that every inch of him was touching him like he was gonna drift away any second now. And there they stayed, for a while, even though Frank had to get out of that circle now before he either exploded or blew chunks. Or both. </p><p>Finally, Gerard let him go, reaching into the basket still at Ray's feet, unwrapped the burlap pouch, and pulled out a tightly packed ball of soil. Ray was smiling at them. Something told Frank he could <em>see</em> the love. </p><p>"There's a seed in the middle of this. It's another rose bush. We'll plant it right here as both a symbol of us and an offering to Aphrodite as homage for the blessings she's poured out tonight. Frank, help me dig and plant this."</p><p>Frank knelt down on the ground, dead center in the grass between the bed of roses and the garden to his left and the gigantic oak tree to his right. </p><p>"These are my favorite flowers. Aphrodite always loves when I give her offerings from my garden, so she'll really love this. They're pink roses." </p><p>"Pink's your favorite color, huh?" Ray said just what Frank was thinking, but was too occupied with making sure he could breathe through his tears to say. </p><p>"Razzmatazz, actually." Gerard sniffled a couple times, using his hands to dig about six inches into the dirt. </p><p>Frank didn't know how he was still moving. He didn't know how he was still alive. Nonetheless, he scraped the dirt out from the hole. </p><p>"Here we are. May this bush grow strong and full and lush, may it overflow with beautiful flowers. Do you want to plant it, Frank?" </p><p>"Yeah." He gently placed the little seed ball in its spot with a shaking right hand, and covered it with dirt again, pressing down a little. </p><p>"And this," Gerard pulled the little metal pitcher out of the basket. "This is moonwater. It'll not only water the plant but bless it, too." </p><p>Each time that Frank thought he couldn't keep getting better, he did. The tiny details and delicate workings of his boyfriend's mind blew him away. He was so very in love. </p><p>He watched him pour the water slowly over where the seed was planted, a tiny spot of soil where the grass got lost somehow. The very last drop soaked in and Gerard stood up, taking Frank with him, and mumbled to himself again, waving his blade in a circle and in the same four directions as before. </p><p>Frank could barely stand. It was either the caffeine had started to wear off, or the last reserve of energy had been wringed out of him from the ceremony. This wore off almost instantly when Gerard announced: "This circle is now closed." Ray had to catch Frank to keep him from fainting. The relief was otherworldly. </p><p>"Dude…" Ray stooped down to put everything back into the basket, handing the knotted ribbon to Gerard. "That was intense. What the hell did you do?" </p><p>"Magic." Gerard took the ribbon, draped it over his shoulder, picked Frank up, and carried him, bridal style, into the house to lay him in bed. "Oh- and Ray," he turned around just as he was going through the door. "You can go now. He's gonna sleep for a while." </p><p>Ray nodded and walked up to put the little woven basket of tools into Frank's lap, pat Gerard on the back, and congratulated him. Then he was gone and the yard was silent except for the whistling of the wind in the branches of the tree. He stood there, on the threshold, for a moment, listening to the sounds, but mostly just Frank's breathing through the wall of tears and mucus. Gerard eventually carried on, closing the door behind him and finally laying Frank down in his bed, swaddling him in the covers. He mumbled something, but Gerard didn't catch it. He fell asleep before he could repeat it. </p><p>Gerard rolled the box in his pocket, telling himself, <em>just wait till he wakes up. </em></p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. vi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello again!!! i feel like it's been a hot minute since i've uploaded, it's probably only been a few days, but i'm back with new content!!! this chapter was hard to write, but it got easier once i figured out where i was going with it.<br/>i made a livejournal!!! if you're still invested in my writing i make non-fic related pieces on there so go check that out if that's something you're interested in.<br/>not much to ramble about 2day!! good news!! enjoy the chapter!!<br/>follow me if u feel like it :o<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes<br/>lj- pennilessheroes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> and then you have  </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> that good old fashioned razzmatazz  </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>It was 7:00pm and the sun had gone down already. The fog was just above the windows of the skyline, licking at the glass every so often like tongues of smoke. The skyline was gray and cold, even in the dark night, illuminated by a warm, orange glow. It wasn't helping Frank's case at all, sitting on the edge of the sofa, back turned to the TV playing quietly, arms resting on his knees and his head between them, looking down. Emptiness was overwhelming. It came with a strong element of doubt, racing thoughts about whether or not that handfasting was even worth it, he hadn't seen Gerard since then, he was recording again. But, then again, would Gerard have done it if he wasn't 100% sure? His magic was incredibly powerful, and it didn't seem like he would just throw it around and waste it on just any random guy.</p><p>His phone rang.</p><p><em> "Yeah?" </em>Frank rubbed his temple and answered sleepily.</p><p><em> "Frankie, can I come over?" </em>Gerard's familiar, raspy voice was soft in the receiver and Frank was instantly comforted.</p><p>
  <em> "Totally, yeah, just give me twe-" </em>
</p><p><em> "Okay, cool, I'm in the elevator right now." </em>Gerard cut him off.</p><p><em> "You're what?" </em>Frank stood up and picked up as many used tissues from the sofa and the floor as he could with a single fist.</p><p><em> "I couldn't wait any longer." </em>He whined.</p><p>
  <em> "You're lucky that I love you." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I love you too. See you in thirty-two seconds." </em>
</p><p>Gerard hung up. Of course he'd memorized the exact amount of time it took for him to walk from the elevator to Frank's apartment door. He just loved the little details that he kept sacred in his head.</p><p>Frank turned off the TV, swearing at it as the newscaster's face lingered on the screen as the signal lagged. "Fuck off, Cathy."</p><p>That was the only light that was on in the room but Frank had wandered aimlessly through his apartment in the dead of night so many times that he was used to it. He stood at the bathroom sink, staring at his puffy eyes in the mirror. <em> Maybe if I keep the lights off, he won't see... </em>He splashed his face with ice cold water, swore, and groaned into the hem of his sweater. He stood there for a few seconds, automatic reflex to just try and push everything back kicking in again, even though he knew that it would be useless the second his eyes met Gerard's and he saw right into him. He wasn't sure why he kept trying. Maybe with more practice he'd be able to hide something. No progress as of yet, though.</p><p>There was a knock on the door and Frank switched on like a light, ignoring the ache in his ribs. He trotted over and opened it, and Gerard swallowed him up into a hug in his heavy, warm, black trench coat. </p><p>"Before you ask," Gerard shut the door behind him and put a cold hand on Frank's cheek. "I just got this gut feeling." He took his coat off and dropped it on the floor. </p><p>"What do you m-<em> emph </em>" </p><p>Gerard just swooped down to pick him up like a baby, holding him under his thighs so that Frank could wrap his legs around his hips. "You're so portable." He said.</p><p>Frank was silent for a minute or so, clutching tightly to Gerard's neck as he swayed from side to side, breathing into his ear. "I missed you."</p><p>"I can tell." Gerard pressed his lips to Frank's temple, making soft little kissy noises and brushing his skin with his lashes. "Sorry, I've been so busy lately, Mikey's gonna kill me if he knows I didn't sneak out to get coffee like I said I was."</p><p>"Still have more to do?"</p><p>"Yeah, we're almost done with Honey, that song you played rhythm on."</p><p>"I can't wait to hear it." He pulled back from his spot on Gerard's shoulder, grabbed both sides of his face and kissed him on the mouth, tasting his minty breath that he had to go so long without.</p><p>"You're upset about something, aren't you?" Gerard's eyes watched Frank's lips as he licked them.</p><p>"Yeah…" There was no use in lying, Frank was right. "But you're already late, your phone has vibrated three times already, I could feel it, I'll be fine, Gee, seriously- don't waste time on me."</p><p>"Time with you is never wasted, sugar." Gerard slid one of his hands over the waistband of Frank's jeans, swiping his thumb over his back.</p><p>"I know, I just- I don't want to delay anything, I- I feel bad-"</p><p>Gerard kissed him again. "I'm not worried about that. We have all the time in the world. Talk to me."</p><p>Gerard was strong, supporting Frank's weight with barely any effort, a powerful, calming presence in the room. </p><p>He didn't want to talk, so he just laid his head on Gerard's shoulder and smelled his hair.</p><p>"It was the news, wasn't it? Your tissue box is empty."</p><p>
  <em> "mhm." </em>
</p><p>"I'm sorry, dulce uno, I heard about it too." Gerard had a certain affinity for Spanish pet names.</p><p>Frank stayed silent, drawing hearts on the back of Gerard's shoulder. He was trying to keep the sobs in his throat- the burning, choking blade- behind his tongue, but it kept getting sharper and sharper with each breath.</p><p>"I know… I know…" Gerard slowly lowered Frank down to his feet so he could stand, and wrapped his arms around him, putting one hand on the back of his head.</p><p>"He's gonna win, you know." Frank whispered so that it didn't scratch anymore than it already was. "It's gonna get outlawed and I don't know what we're gonna do. I don't know what I'm gonna do."</p><p>Gerard just rubbed his back. Frank could tell that he didn't know either.</p><p>"I'm fucking terrified." The welling up in his throat was leaking out of his eyes, searing at every nerve ending, deeper and deeper the longer he kept it at bay. If he cried now, Gerard would never let himself leave, and the guilt he developed from that was overpowering how badly he truly wanted him to stay. "I can't do this."</p><p>"Honey, yes you can."</p><p>"How do you know? I have no idea how I even made it this far at all-"</p><p>"Then maybe it's time you surprise yourself."</p><p>Frank swallowed and the rawness in the back of his throat only made it worse. "I'm sorry- I just- I just can't do this." He couldn't keep the knife down any longer. It all came up like a nauseous whirlpool of shame and fear. <em> "I'm sorry." </em></p><p>"Why are you sorry, baby?"</p><p>He wasn't crying enough to express the intensity of the emotions erupting underneath his skin, the burning sensation like magma boiling to the surface. "They're gonna kill us. My dream came true and now I'm gonna lose it, my life, and yours. <em> God, </em>what else can I lose?"</p><p>"Frank," Gerard spoke softly, trying to deny the exact same feelings in his chest because that wouldn't make it any better. He knew that someone would end up walking the streets looking for him, stopping at every red painted door, and he also knew that it was becoming increasingly clear that neither of them would be safe anywhere. He didn't know where they would be. But Gerard just couldn't think of any words to say to fix this. He usually had some in his arsenal that always calmed Frank down, but this time, his mind was blank. The forest in between them was dark and winter had already set in, leaves falling and crackling underfoot. But there were seeds planted there, soft animals hibernating, all waiting for the next time they could thrive. It tore him apart that everything was at a stand-still. It tore him apart that he couldn't just change the way things were, to take Frank's pain away and make him better. No amount of his empathy could ever save the world and it was devastating. That was the one thing that ruined his loving heart for him. There was no use in trying tonight, so Gerard gave up and pulled Frank to meet his eyes by the side of his face. He didn't kiss him, he just watched him, waiting, furrowing his brow at the sadness in his eyes. "Frank, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I can't fix it. I'm sorry that we have to deal with this. I'm sorry that this is where we're at now, and that this is where your dreams unfold and bloom. I'm sorry that everyone waters your flowers with gasoline."</p><p>Frank didn't say anything. His eyes spoke for him.</p><p>"You don't have to pretend that everything's fine. You don't have to act like this isn't happening. Fuck having perfect nights. It's okay not to have joy right now, Frank. You don't have to clean yourself up before you see me, I understand. We're both going through this, remember?"</p><p>Frank nodded.</p><p>"I'm scared as hell. If worse comes to worse, we can run, right?"</p><p><em> "Fuck." </em>He whispered, squeezing Gerard a little tighter. This sent a twang of nervous energy through his body, the thought of things getting so bad that they had to flee the country was something he always pushed away for fear of it consuming him and becoming real; helpless, broke, and without a passport, that was the last thing Frank wanted to consider.</p><p>"I vowed to never let you out of my sight, okay? I will never abandon that. Whatever happens, I'm going with you, or you're coming with me. I need you to know that. I know you don't like to think about it, hell, nobody likes to think about having to escape down back roads, but worst case scenario, we're doing it together."</p><p>"I just don't get it." Frank wiggled out of his arms, standing a few feet back against the kitchen counter and looking at the picture frames sitting there. He remembered how happy he was when he had animals around. He was smiling in every frame. "Why is this happening? People are dying every second and this is what they think they should be doing?"</p><p>"This is gonna kill people, Frank."</p><p>Frank's hands went cold. "They're gonna kill us." He choked on some light tears, every vein in his hands begging for Gerard to lay his own on top. He did so.</p><p>Gerard was standing stiffly, sucking his lips in and biting the bottom one. He gripped the counter behind him with his free hand to hide his shakes, even though Frank could see it in his other hand. Gerard hated that he couldn't deny anything. It made his stomach sick and his head swim. It felt like he was underwater and inhaling liquid, burning down to his core and drowning his breath.</p><p>"Just-" Frank turned towards him, holding both of Gerard's hands out in front of him. "Just promise me that in a few months, if you're gonna leave-" <em> sniff. </em>"If we need to get out of here, tell me and I'll be there to help you pack up, and- and we'll go together."</p><p>"Of course I'd tell you, Frankie." Gerard squeezed his hands. "Why do you think that I'd just leave you here?"</p><p>Frank thought about it. He was already in too deep to sever any ties. He had already fallen completely in love with Gerard and if he left, <em> shit, </em> he was sure it would kill him. Their souls were already bound together, for as long as the spell held, and even then, even after every cord was untied, if he lost Gerard someday, it would tear his soul from his flesh and shred it into a million pieces. It was crazy how much he loved him. How much he would do for him, and how quickly he would lay himself out in the middle of the road if the cops had to choose between them in a raid. Frank would fucking die for Gerard. "Because everyone eventually does." That was true. The billions of boyfriends and family members that had deleted every trace of him from their lives after he'd already fallen too far to reach the surface again still lived inside his bones. </p><p>"I'm sorry, love, you don't deserve that. I'm gonna change things, okay?"</p><p>"I know, it's just- I mean, you, Mikey, and Ray are all I have, and I'm so fucking in love with you that I forget how to function when you're not around. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."</p><p>"You won't." Gerard pulled Frank into his chest and kissed his head, taking extra effort to rub his back and run his thumbs over his hips.</p><p>"Promise?" Frank stuck his pinkie out and kissed Gerard's shoulder through his shirt before looking up at his round face.</p><p>"I promise." Gerard wrapped his own finger around Frank's and hugged him again. "I always do."</p><p>Gerard's phone vibrated again, jarring against Frank's thigh, obviously angry texts from the guys. He pulled it out, scrolled a bit, and then took Frank's hand again. "Come to the studio with me. I don't wanna leave you alone tonight."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>Gerard put his coat on again and became someone else. He opened the door and instead of taking Frank's hand in his own to walk down the hallway like he always did, he just stiffly glided a few paces in front of him and didn't break his gaze from the floor. It felt like Gerard wasn't even there. His steps looked hollow, like he had just relearned how to walk and nothing came naturally. Even from the way he turned the corners, every bit of Gerard ached for Frank to be right up against him as he walked. </p><p>The lonely, silent journey down to the elevator was miserable for them both. It was like an awkward first blind date with someone your cousin's boss' ex-girlfriend's sister-in-law met once at a bar and thought you would go good together; trying to remember how to talk because you so desperately want to. Frank's joints throbbed with impatience and anticipation, paint chipping off from the cloak he had to cover himself in whenever he went down to the car. As much as he wanted to beat the shit out of the next guy to call him a slur, the one time that he realized how much it hurt Gerard scared him off of it for at least a little while. The claustrophobic, little metal tin can shakily descending wasn't helping the discomfort.</p><p>Gerard cleared his throat, slowly tracing Frank's figure with his eyes as he twiddled his thumbs in his lap, leaned up against the wall. <em> He's beautiful… </em>he thought, feeling the weight in his chest pulling him swiftly to the floor. It was already too late to jump at the barbell, clean and jerk, and kiss Frank, so the five ton metal was cold against the skin of his stomach.</p><p>The doors opened after forty-seven agonizing seconds and Gerard sped out, b-lining for the double doors, hatchback in view. Gerard almost didn't walk at all, he might as well have flown from point A to point B on a private jet. Frank couldn't keep up.</p><p>They were both sealed tight inside the car and Gerard shivered like he'd just shed his skin, throwing it into the backseat. He clutched Frank's thigh with a strong hand and kissed him.</p><p><em> "Shit…" </em>Frank twitched at the touch, all his muscles relaxed at once.</p><p>Gerard's phone vibrated again, he took his hand away, punched the steering wheel, sighed, and plunged the key in the ignition. Turning it, he watched the tiny corner of the parking lot asphalt light up in the yellow-orange glow of the headlights. He took one last look at Frank, still flustered, and put the car in reverse for the billionth time, smirking a little bit like he always did before he turned over his shoulder. "My mouth hurts so goddamn bad, time to sing till I either pass out or they kick us out again."</p><p>And Frank was in love with him. </p><p>"Maybe I'll get fucking wasted too, that's their favorite." Gerard winked and pulled slowly out onto the road.</p><p>Frank wiped the last evidence of a tear from his eyelid. "Maybe, if we ever get there." He giggled.</p><p>"You think I wanna see a cop right now?" The familiar <em> clack-click </em>of the turn signal droned on behind Gerard's voice. "Fuck off."</p><p>"All I'm saying is that I know why the album is two months late."</p><p>Gerard braked a little harder than he normally did at a stoplight, smiling and jabbing a finger at Frank. "I said fuck off. Keep running your mouth and I'll make you drive."</p><p>"Bet." Frank unbuckled his seat belt and he was already over the center console before Gerard could reply. </p><p>Gerard sat there for a second so that Frank would sit on his lap for a second or two, kiss his forehead, and then push him over to the passenger side. The seat was still warm from his body heat.</p><p>The light turned green the second Frank buckled his belt back in, and he sped off, lacing through the lanes and getting to the studio in eight minutes. Gerard always said it took twenty.</p><p>"You drive like my grandma." Frank shut the car door, coughing a bit at the cigarette Gerard had started after they switched seats that hung in the air. "Keep that up and you'll sound like her too."</p><p>"Fuck off."</p><p>They walked up the dark, empty sidewalk together, fingers brushing every now and then. And Gerard was in love with him. The forest began to thaw.</p><p>"Fucking <em> finally </em>, holy shit!" Ray's hand was loud against the table inside the recording booth, where he had just finished laying down the last guitar riff he needed.</p><p>Mikey didn't even look up, he was used to his brother's tardiness. It was routine at this point. He just rolled in his chair to the mixing console and opened his laptop again to look at the tracks. "Somehow I knew you weren't going to get coffee."</p><p>"Gerard's a bad liar." Frank leaned against the wall adjacent to the door of the booth, waving at Ray.</p><p>"Tell me about it." Mikey put his headphones on over his ears again and exhaled, pressing play and staring intently at the screen, bobbing his head occasionally. That was probably the thirtieth time he'd listened to that damned song that night.</p><p>"Well, we managed to finish everything on Vampires while you were gone, we just need vocals." Ray laid his hand firmly on Frank's shoulder, turning his face to Gerard who was incessantly rubbing that same spot in his jaw and biting his thumb. The longer the two stared at each other, the more disdain and exhaustion filled Ray's face. "For fuck's sake, don't tell me-"</p><p>"My mouth hurts." Gerard snuffed out his cigarette in the crystal glass bowl on top of a stack of amps.</p><p>"Do I look like we have time for this?" Ray pointed at the dark gray circles around his eyes. It was only 7:45, but who knows how long that poor man had been rotting his own brain out repeating the same riff over and over again? Gerard knew, they'd been there all day every day for weeks, and the stress of delaying the album wasn't helping. He felt terrible but guilt was not as effective as he wished it was.</p><p>"Do I look like I can help it?"</p><p>Mikey took his headphones off again, letting them drop onto the table this time, and put the pads of his palms against the sides of his face. "Are you singing tonight or not, Gerard?" Mikey's finger was hovering over the track pad, cursor pointing to the <em> 'Add New Track' </em>button.</p><p>Gerard shook his head, biting extra hard on his finger and whimpering, turning to Frank who had his hands tucked under his arms, warming them so he could massage Gerard's jaw with some heat. He started to walk over to do just that before he was stopped by Mikey's trademark heavy sigh. </p><p>Mikey stood up, walked over to his brother, and without saying a word, decked him in the face and swore under his breath. "If we finish the goddamn album before your teeth fall out of your fucking skull we can afford to take you to the hospital." He wrung his hands out, popping a few knuckles. "For Christ's sake, Gee…"</p><p>Frank's hands were out in front of him, palms facing inwards, and he was staring at them like they held the answer to what he could do next. They were empty.</p><p>Gerard wiped the drool from his mouth, glared at Mikey, and sulked into the recording booth, right past Frank.</p><p><em> "God help me…" </em>Mikey whispered. He finally clicked the button and turned a few dials up. "Lyrics are on the notepad, from the top."</p><p>And from the top he started, belting out the best vocals Frank had ever heard from him. His voice was clear and sounded like it ran right through him like melted snow through a crook in a hill. It left a scar in the dirt, every scream that he let scratch his throat deepened the veiny cracks. </p><p>
  <em> 'Someone needs to punch this guy in the face more often…' </em>
</p><p>Frank moved with him, mimicking every bounce and bob, tapping his foot in time to the rhythm that Gerard's body shook to with every note.</p><p>Sitting next to him, Ray's fingers absentmindedly tapped along to the guitar tracks in the background that he could hear through the leak in Gerard's headphones.</p><p>Frank was lulled to insanity by the smoothness in Gerard's voice, eyes drooping from the density of the love he was trying to shoot through them like laser beams, swelling to burst with pride and joy. <em> I love you, </em> he thought. <em> I love you so much. </em>He was hypnotic, tantalizing, encasing Frank in a trance that he never wanted out of. </p><p>Gerard sang every vocal fill without saying a word in between them, throwing his chest into the guttural, fear-filled screams. His eyes shut tight, gnashing his teeth, and becoming otherworldly. He was something better than an angel. <em> Be not afraid… </em></p><p>His whispers were gentle and heavenly, the same volume and consistency that he used for Frank, both to drive him over the edge and to keep him from falling apart off the other side. Frank couldn't tell if he was at peace or turned on as Gerard layered them on top of each other, hands down at his sides, pulling at the hem of his shirt as he chanted, eyebrows raised.</p><p>Then he was done, laying the headphones back on the table and tearing the sheet of lyrics from the notepad, folding it and putting it on top of his folded coat. He was gonna take it home and tuck it into one of his journals. He still didn't say anything.</p><p>"Well-" Ray turned towards him to do- something- but Gerard had already walked out of the booth and straight to Frank, where he grabbed him by the hair and kissed him on the mouth.</p><p>"That <em> literally </em> took ten minutes. <em> All </em>day for ten minutes." Ray started to turn off the equipment around him, looking for something to do with his hands so he didn't have to deal with- that.</p><p>"You're welcome." Mikey saved the progress, clicked around, and then shut his laptop in a hurry. He'd edit it tomorrow.</p><p>Gerard finally pulled away from Frank, scratching at the greasy part line of his hair, where the pink was just now starting to fade. He'd only washed his hair a few times since it was dyed, careful not to completely wash it away. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you too, so much."</p><p><em> "Awww…" </em>Mikey and Ray tried not to puke, packing up everything they'd brought since two cables had already gotten stolen and they were short $60.</p><p>"And yes, Gerard, before you swallow the guy, you two can leave now."</p><p>They were already out the door and around the corner before Mikey finished his sentence. </p><p>Frank drove them back to his apartment, barely leaving time to turn Gerard's car off in the parking lot before leaping over the console onto Gerard's lap. He was missing his Misfits CD, which usually played when he made out with guys like this, but Gerard's voice was still stuck inside his head, and that was enough for now.</p><p>His fingers were cold against Frank's hips just under his shirt. Gerard pushed the door open and picked him up to take him out of the car. Gerard pushed him up against the cold metal of the car, kissing down his neck and keeping him warm with his breath. He pulled away and, holding Frank's hand, ran into the building and up the stairs that they never used, too impatient to wait for the elevator.</p><p>Frank fumbled with his keys as he always did, shaking hands making the tension build ten times quicker as Gerard nibbled at his neck. Once he eventually got inside, he pushed Gerard against the locked door, lights off, and kissed him back on the mouth.</p><p>"You're incredible." He said between kisses, gasping for air. He was <em> really </em>not fit to take the stairs. </p><p>Gerard was pulling him by the hand.</p><p>"You know…" Frank trailed off.</p><p>Then it was morning. Frank woke up to Gerard looking at him, face half covered by the blankets so only his eyes were poking out. His eyes smiled when they met Frank's.</p><p>"Good morning." Gerard's voice was sweet, like pure sugar syrup. He had one hand on Frank's back, rubbing little circles into his skin.</p><p>Frank rubbed the sleep from his eyes and moaned, rolling over onto his side to face Gerard and coaxing his sore, weak muscles into motion.</p><p>"I have a question, love." Gerard's hand fit perfectly into the dip in Frank's side, and little flares of dark, dusty, passionate pink danced in the corners of his vision.</p><p>"Hmm?" Frank pulled the blankets from over Gerard's face so he could brush his hair back, stroking his face.</p><p>"What's your favorite color?"</p><p>He thought about it for a second, staring at Gerard and feeling full to the brim with adoration. "Probably the color that your eyes are when the sun hits them just-" he leaned back a little so the light could beam in from the open curtains onto Gerard's face. "-like that. You glow. Or red."</p><p>Gerard smiled at him. He was in love.</p><p>Frank was overwhelmed by it. He was overwhelmed by how much Gerard loved him, how his body drowned in it, yearning eternally for him, and how eager he was to show it at every chance he could. He looked beautiful in the morning sun, hell, he looked beautiful all the time, but this particular fall morning made Gerard look like something better than an angel. <em> Be not afraid... </em></p><p>The words fell out of Frank's mouth in a thick ooze, slurred together by both the disorientation of morning freshly dripping from the mouth of consciousness and the intoxication of Gerard. "What's yours, baby?"</p><p>That only made Gerard's smile bigger.</p><p>"What's your favorite color? What do you see when you kiss me?" Frank kissed him for good measure.</p><p>"Razzmatazz, Frank. I wanna paint the whole world in that color so that, everywhere I look, I see you there."</p><p>Satisfied with the answer, Frank scooted over to lay his head in the nape of Gerard's shoulder and draped his arm over his waist. He kissed his nose and fell back asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. vii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>second to last run! oh boy it's been a haul to get to this point, i've poured so much of myself into this fic and now i get to watch it grow up :(</p><p>i am excited though, i get to introduce a new character, and just know that i love him very much.</p><p>i had to take a lot of breaks writing this chapter since i projected particularly deeply, and it ended up nice and long, so i'm slightly emotional about ending this piece. i'm not sure what to do with myself after i have nothing to write. with everything in the u.s. right now i had to get my thoughts out in the only way i know how. i hope you like it and it helps you escape like it has for me.</p><p>follow me<br/>ig-amnesiarts<br/>twt-thedevilscrimes<br/>lj-pennilessheroes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> oh  </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> you broke my heart again </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> you climbed up on your ivory tower </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> and you paid off all my friends </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> and now well </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> some things just cannot be fixed </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> with sparkled tongues and politics </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> in a fascist little paradox </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> we all become anonymous </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>
  <em> bzzt… bzzt… bzzt… </em>
</p><p>Frank woke up to his phone still in the pocket of his jeans that he passed out in, laying on his stomach on top of Gerard, between his legs, with his head on Gerard's belly. The uniform rise and fall under his head told him he was still deep asleep. Gerard's body was soft, warm under his shirt, and Frank was calmed by his breathing. He was ethereal in this state, mouth slightly open, long eyelashes dark against his pale skin. Frank was careful to dig his phone out of his pocket so as not to wake him.</p><p>He was sure that it was just congratulatory messages, since Bullets had come out at midnight, finally, so he sleepily squinted at the screen while he blocked the bright sunlight shining in through Gerard's bedroom window with one of his hands.</p><p>Every notification was a blend of texts, missed calls, and voicemails from Mikey and Ray. It was noon. He didn't even get a chance to see what the texts said before Ray called him.</p><p>It rang for a bit while Frank slowly rolled out of bed and into the living room.</p><p>
  <em> "Hey, Ray, sorry I didn't get your calls, I just woke up. Is everything okay?" </em>
</p><p>Ray was breathing heavily, obviously distressed. <em> "Are you with Gerard? Where is he? Is he okay?" </em></p><p>
  <em> "Yeah, dude, he's still sleeping and I'm at his house, why?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Go wake him up and turn on the news."  </em>
</p><p><em> "Wait, why? Ray?" </em>He'd already hung up. Frank's stomach dropped.</p><p>Frank stumbled around the living room for the remote, anxiety rising in his chest as his head swam with thoughts. He felt like he already knew what was wrong.</p><p>The first channel that the TV flipped on was the news, and in big, bold, black letters read: <em> 'CONSERVATIVE VICTORY: MARRIAGE EQUALITY OVERTURNED, FEDERAL SEARCHES TO BE ENACTED BY MONDAY.' </em></p><p>Frank felt like he was gonna throw up. His chest was caved in and no words could come out. Every broken rib inside him stabbed at his lungs and punctured them, so his breath filled his stomach with air, only increasingly the pressure on his guts. There was nothing he could do, nowhere he could go, nothing he could say that would match how he felt. He just slowly lowered himself to the floor and laid there, curled up in a ball. He couldn't even cry. He couldn't even shake. There was nothing left inside him. He'd forgotten about the election. He'd forgotten that this was happening. He slept through the results last night, and by noon the next day his nest had already been swatted from its tree, vulnerable young now fresh bait in the street. Birds of prey were circling over his head like a cartoon character seeing stars, swarming him like his body was already dead. Frank damn wished it was. It would feel better to be a corpse than force himself through this.</p><p>It felt like he was there on the hardwood floor for hours. It was only about half of one, and the volume of the TV woke Gerard up, coupled with the cold, empty spot in bed. He shivered and shuffled out of bed to peer around the edge of the hallway into the living room.</p><p>"Frankie?"</p><p>He didn't even look up. The longer the newscaster droned on, the more Frank's ears ached.</p><p>Gerard stepped towards him, but stopped in his tracks when his eyes met the screen. It looked like his soul drained out of him and his heart fell out of his mouth and hit the floor. He looked frozen in time. Gerard may as well have been a block of ice, his fingers went gray and numb.</p><p>"Frank?" Gerard called for him again, like that was gonna break the chills and keep them both alive. The forest was on fire now, and Gerard's insides burned with it. The flames lapped at him, scorching the tender, young grasses that had just awakened and barely had time to nourish the land. He could smell the smoke from deep within him, rotting all the way down to his very core. It felt like a full thickness burn.</p><p>Neither of them could cry. Gerard just slowly knelt down on the floor next to Frank, who wouldn't even look at him. Gerard's phone rang on the coffee table and he ignored it, too afraid to move in case he shattered. There wasn't a word that could describe this emotion. There wasn't a word that could describe the blackness that filled the room and made Gerard blind, eyes dark like a demon, claws around his throat and holding him down. He just sank against the sofa on the floor and pulled Frank by the waistband of his pants to his side. He picked him up so that he could sit on his knees between Gerard's legs and rest his head on his chest. It was there that they finally fell apart.</p><p>They were gonna come look for them. Someone would find them. Anyone that knew them would get paid to give away their location after interrogation. There was nowhere they could hide, they had to wipe their phones and computers completely clean and flee the country. How far was Toronto from there? 8 hours? They could make it if they prayed as hard as they could. They only had the weekend, since it was Friday already. Three days to delete themselves from existence or face certain doom.</p><p>Without warning, Mikey, accompanied by Ray, unlocked the front door and threw himself on the couch behind his brother. He wrapped his arms tightly around his neck and buried his face in Gerard's hair. Gerard didn't even lift his hand to touch Mikey, he was holding on to Frank as tightly as he could.</p><p>"Don't leave, Gee, please. Don't leave me here. I don't know what I'm gonna do."</p><p>"You know they'll kill them both if they stay." Ray tapped on his phone repeatedly, deleting contacts and text threads and call histories.</p><p>Mikey inhaled sharply, not moving from his spot. "I know." He planted a kiss in Gerard's hair. "I just don't want him to leave."</p><p>Ray sighed. "I don't know what to tell you-"</p><p>"It'd be less suspicious if we're all together, right? Like- like we could just go on a" <em> air quotes </em> "vacation and- I mean, four guys is better than two alone, right? They'll track us down if we stay behind anyway, since we have so much public connection to them. I mean, look at the fucking MySpace."</p><p>"He's right." Gerard finally spoke, staring off at the corner of the room, running his fingers through Frank's hair.</p><p>Frank whimpered a little, but his eyes were shut tight and he held fistfuls of Gerard's shirt in white-knuckled hands.</p><p>"What if we all just- faked our deaths?" Mikey sat up, loosening his grip on Gerard.</p><p>"Mikey-" Ray tilted his head to the side and stepped towards him, but he was stopped by Mikey approaching him anyway.</p><p>"Ray, you know a guy, right? Somebody who can get us some fake certificates or something? Like the guy who got me a fake ID for when we played at that bar in freshman year?" Mikey pointed at him.</p><p>Ray pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course I know a guy. I always know a guy, but-"</p><p>"That's the only way we can really make sure that no one knows we're here. Make up fake names to sign our own death certificates, say that our family's got our bodies, it's ugly but at least it'll buy us some time." Mikey massaged his brother's shoulders. "We only have three days before they start searching, and if some rando recognizes us outside even before that, we're fucked, so we gotta do this as fast as we can."</p><p>"Gerard, Frank, get up, get your phones, laptops, wallets, documents, fucking birth certificates, whatever the fuck else that's got your names on it, and bring it out to the car. Geoff can put whatever you don't wanna lose on hard drives and we can get out with those and whatever you can fit in a suitcase in the back of your car." Mikey took Gerard's arm in his hand, lifting him up, while Ray peeled Frank off the floor and fixed his hair with his hands. </p><p>"I'll take Frank to his place to gather up his things and help him pack, Mikey, you help Gee, we'll meet at Geoff's. You remember where he's at?"</p><p>Mikey nodded, brushing Gerard's hair out of his face. <em> "mhm." </em></p><p>Frank pulled himself from Ray's grasp and ran to hug Gerard, breathing in as much of his scent as he could before kissing him on the mouth and telling him he loved him. Gerard loved him too.</p><p>Frank still wasn't entirely there, time was moving at lightning speeds and he was dizzy from standing up so quickly. He was nauseous and his stomach hurt from all the terror inside it, so he held on firmly to Ray's shoulders as he carted him out the door. </p><p>Once they were both buckled into the car, Ray had his head in his hands, forehead resting on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He said, starting up the car and speeding off down the road in less than a minute. "I'm sorry that this is how you have to love Gerard. I'm sorry that this is where the band stops. At least for now."</p><p>Frank didn't say anything. He just scrolled through the photos in his phone, moving every precious one of them into a folder he titled <em> 'keep.' </em>All he really cared about were the pictures.</p><p>Ray pulled quickly into a parking space in the lot outside Frank's apartment building, slamming on the brakes before he hit the cement block. Frank looked up at him.</p><p>"Wait- how did you know the way to my place? You've never been over here."</p><p>"Gerard gave all of us your address in case something ever happened. Now that something happened…" He gestured vaguely in the air.</p><p>"Got it."</p><p>They both got out of the car, staring at the ground as they half-walked-half-ran into the elevator. Once inside, it all started to come to Frank. </p><p>This was real, this was not a nightmare. He ran his fingernail over the pad of his thumb and thought to himself, <em> 'I'm gonna fucking die if I don't hurry.' </em></p><p>He mentally scrolled through every sheet of paper that he owned, trying to remember where each one was so he could pick them all up and take them to this Geoff guy to do whatever it was he was good at doing.</p><p>"Why don't you look for your papers and I'll pack your clothes? If we split up we can do it faster." </p><p>Frank didn't reply to Ray, standing in the entryway to his apartment and soaking up the moment. Frank's brain wasn't very good at telling him that things were happening, as was evident from his previous endeavors: seeing MCR from the front row, (for the third time) kissing Gerard that first time, actually going home with Gerard that first time, the handfasting, now this, <em> everything </em>seemed to hit Frank like a ton of bricks. He just needed these few seconds. He was pretty sure he would never see this apartment again, so all he wanted to do was sit and stare out the huge picture window in the living room, watching the tiny people and the tiny cars squirm around like little ants, unbothered.</p><p>But he <em> was </em>bothered, that was the problem. He wanted to run away with Gerard so bad, badly enough that it coursed through his veins, all he wanted was to be safe, far, far away from the place that held all the hurt inside of him like a soaked cork in a decade old bottle of shitty wine that you got as a gift but never liked enough to drink. Frank just wanted this to be over. He needed to start over, clean, fresh, new, where nobody knew anything about him and nobody made the connection between his Jersey accent and black nail polish collection.</p><p>"Frank?" Ray already had Frank's laptop in his hands, and he set it down on the floor in front of the window, starting a pile. "You coming?"</p><p><em> "mhm." </em>He floated like a ghost to his bedroom and dragged from under his bed a box filled to the brim with folders neatly organized with way too many papers, ones that Frank really didn't think he had to keep, but he did anyway. Just in case. Just in case they tied him to something.</p><p>"Once you get everything- here- Geoff gave me this list of things that you need to call in and cancel before you flee the country, so after you get all your papers in a line, call as many of these places as you can, but don't tell any of them that you're leaving the country or moving at all. Just say that you're unsatisfied and switching providers." The list was exhaustive, around ten companies Frank had to call and wait around for and talk in his cheery 'I love humans' voice to, ranging from insurance and phone services to his bank and leasing office. </p><p>Frank took a deep breath and opened the file box.</p><p>Three hours later and he had sorted through all his papers and made the first few phone calls (which went surprisingly easy), pausing occasionally to answer Ray's 'keep or donate' questions, since he couldn't cram everything he owned into the only tiny suitcase he owned. He never traveled, so why would he take up space he didn't have with bulky luggage he never used? This is why. Now he regretted that $40 purchase from two years ago. It was a steal at the time, though…</p><p>"I don't care what we have to sacrifice, I'm keeping all those photos. Take them out of the frames, I'll keep them in the fucking cup holders, I don't care, just pack them, Toro." Frank picked up one of the frames from his dining room table as he passed it, dropping off stacks of paper into a cardboard box in the living room, admiring how Gerard looked in it, smiling and stealing the spotlight from the overexposed hands of the crowd. He loved him…</p><p>"So, we're taking everything in this pile to Geoff's-" Ray pointed to the large, neatly stacked pile of file boxes and electronics. "And everything in this one-" pointing to the other, which was a suitcase, two backpacks, and five random tote bags and shopping bags stuffed with keepsakes. "-with us on the road, right?" Ray scratched his chin. "Sounds right. Looks right."</p><p>Frank was already elbow deep in the next company, halfway through the list now, curled up in a ball in front of the window, holding his insurance card in an impatient hand. He missed Gerard so much, scared of the pain he knew he was feeling, wishing fiercely that he would knock on his door and pick him up like he always did and carry him out to the car so they can run away together. But Gerard never came and he kept rambling on with the person on the phone with the same monotonous voice. He was almost done with this. Once he cancelled his phone service they'd go straight to that house and he'd see Gerard again. <em> Just an hour more… </em></p><p><em> "Okay, thank you so much, bye now." </em>Frank hung up the last call he needed to make, groaning and rubbing his hands all over his face. "They're shutting off my data at midnight."</p><p>"Nice." Ray slung both the backpacks over his shoulders and made one last trek down the elevator, to Frank's car and back, singing a little melody as he went. </p><p>Frank always wondered how Ray was so professional about everything all the time, seemingly the only one in the band with their head screwed on correctly, keeping everyone in line. Maybe he and Mikey were the ones who held the group together, the strong sutures stitched by tedious hands. He would love to learn more about him and see into his intelligence, and maybe that would hold some answers as to why Ray Toro never talked about anything personal. Whatever he was hiding was staying hidden for a reason, or maybe he had nothing to hide and he was just a normal guy, but Frank didn't think that was even remotely possible. There had to be something deep and dark within that man that made him so headstrong. No one is as natural a leader as Ray was without something scary driving them like a nine-volt battery. If he made it out of this alive he would give himself all the time in the world to sit down with him and find out.</p><p>Frank bit his tongue and meticulously pulled every poster and photo down from his bedroom walls, folding the bigger ones at their creases and stacking them all according to size in an old shoe box with his notebooks and loose sheets of poetry from his desk. He took extra effort to be gentle with the My Chem ones, looking at Gerard for a little on each one. It took half the time to take everything off the walls that it took to put everything on the walls. The effort was <em> definitely </em>(not) worth it. He shoved book after book and figurine after figurine after random knick-knack into grocery bags, choking down the sting in his chest at the thought of parting with any of it. He emptied the shelf of CDs into another bag and he hoped they could at least take his car to the border, since he would never get that Misfits disc out of there even if he took everything apart bolt by rusty bolt.</p><p>His bedroom was stripped bare, nothing but the skin of what made this place home, neon pink and green wallpaper pulsating through his eye sockets like every stripe was moving along with him. He was going to miss it. This was his third sweep of the entire apartment, he couldn't stand still, so he convinced himself that he'd forgotten something, even though the place was completely gutted. He just folded up his favorite weighted blanket, cradled it tight to his chest, picked up his guitar case, and met Ray in the living room.</p><p>"There's some more bags in my room, but other than that, I'm done." </p><p>The sun was golden on the horizon, and Ray had already called some of his friends to come pick up all of Frank's furniture tomorrow and pawn it all before they left that night so they'd have some pocket cash for the road. It wrenched his gut but at least he found comfort in knowing that, regardless, his things would be cared for by someone.</p><p>He rode the elevator down to the lobby by himself, in silence, hoping that no one would cross paths with him, solemn anticipation making him feel small. There was something about seeing a place for the last time that made the rest of the world feel so much bigger; uncharted, unknown, and intimidating, and Frank wasn't sure if he hated it or not. There was potential to start a new life like he'd been wanting ever since he met Gerard, but the fear of being found was still just as potent as the wish he'd already mentioned. </p><p>Just as he was putting the last of his stuff in his car, his phone rang. It was Gerard.</p><p><em> "Hey." </em>He sounded so tired and weak, and Frank hurt for him.</p><p><em> "Hi, baby." </em>Frank could barely talk through his smile, leaning against the driver's side door.</p><p>
  <em> "Last call on this bad boy, you know? It's all starting to feel very real and- I don't know. I just needed to hear your voice." </em>
</p><p><em> "I know. I'm here. I know how you feel. Me and Ray just finished packing up my car-" </em> He caught a glimpse of him rounding the corner, holding three grocery bags in one hand and two in the other. <em> "There he is now, we're gonna leave soon." </em></p><p><em> "So are we…" </em> Gerard paused for a second. <em> "I love you- I don't know why I said that- I just- I needed you to know, I guess I-" </em></p><p><em> "Gerard," </em> Frank cut him off. <em> "It's okay. I love you too. I'm nervous too, alright?"  </em></p><p>
  <em> "I'm so fucking scared." </em>
</p><p>Frank could hear Gerard's voice shake through the phone and his heart was heavy.</p><p>
  <em> "I'll be there soon, hun, alright? Hold tight, go give Mikey a hug while you wait. Can you do that?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I need you." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I'm on my way, Gee, just- just go to Mikey, please, okay? You're gonna be just fine, I promise." </em>
</p><p>Gerard sniffled a couple times, breathing just loud enough so that Frank knew he was still there, even if he wasn't talking. Frank put him on speaker, sat down in the driver's seat, and set his phone in his lap. </p><p>
  <em> "I'm with Mikey now- Mikey says hi, Frank." </em>
</p><p><em> "Hi, Frank." </em> Mikey's voice was calm, he was trying his best to keep it together since that's what he <em> always did, </em>but there was still an undertone of anxiety in it. That was a given.</p><p>
  <em> "Good. Hi, Mikey." </em>
</p><p>It was silent for a few minutes, except for the sound of shutting car doors and chimes on Gerard's end. <em> "I gotta hang up and drive, Frankie."  </em></p><p>
  <em> "So do I. I love you." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I love you too. Cheers to our last phone call. Pretty sunset to celebrate with." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Cheers to running from the government." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Cheers." </em>
</p><p>And then Gerard hung up and it was dead quiet. No birds were chirping, no people were talking, no wind was blowing through the leaves of the trees, nothing. Time stood still. This was the shift in reality. This was the alternate dimension, the parallel universe, the lucid dream that would start the new chapter. This was the beginning. It sure felt like the end, though.</p><p>Frank blinked at the dashboard of his car, sighed, and turned the key, groaning in harmony with the familiar hum of the engine and the CD jumping into the middle of a song playing just loud enough to whisper along to.</p><p>"Cheers, indeed." Frank shifted into drive and pulled out into the street.</p><p>Frank followed Ray's directions all the way to a tidy bungalow on a corner lot on the other side of town, shrouded by pine trees against the chain link fence and rose bushes all in a row along the sidewalk leading to the front door. Too nice of a place to be dealing fake IDs from, surely.</p><p>"Is this the place?" Frank asked, pulling halfway into the driveway.</p><p>"Would I lead you to some random ass house?" Ray turned to look at him with the same exhaustion in his eyes that he'd shown in the studio.</p><p>Frank shook his head and pulled the rest of the way in, yanking the parking brake up and getting out of the car. He popped the trunk and grabbed the cardboard box filled with papers, and Ray carried his laptop to the front door just ahead of him.</p><p>He didn't even need to knock. A tall man opened the door and invited them in without saying a word. He peered around both sides of the porch for a moment before he shut the door and locked it. He turned around to look at Frank and smiled.</p><p>"You must be Frank." He put his hand on Frank's shoulder and took the heavy box from him. He set it on a large, glass table.</p><p>"Yeah, Ray has told me about you, apparently you gave Mikey Way a fake ID to play bass at a bar gig when he was 14."</p><p>"That's me." He looked proud of himself, pinning the back of his hand underneath his chin. "I'm Geoff Rickly, by the way." He could finally shake Frank's hand. He did so firmly.</p><p>"He produced and helped us find guys to fill drums on Bullets. Geoff is the Swiss Army knife of dudes." Ray set Frank's laptop on the table on top of the box.</p><p>"Jesus Christ," Frank stood awkwardly in the entryway, kicking his shoes off just before the line of the carpet of the living room started. "Thursday? I saw you guys open for-"</p><p>Geoff nodded. "I kind of do it all. I sing, I produce, I find fill-in drummers, I… commit fraud…" He looked off into the distance, past everyone, and then laughed to himself.</p><p>"Music producer in the streets-" Frank mumbled under his breath.</p><p>"Illegal ID and certification dealer in the sheets." Geoff finished Frank's sentence and gestured for him to join Ray on the sofa that he had already planted himself on.</p><p>Geoff pulled a red painted wooden box from a shelf just out of view and set it on the table, opening it and perusing through the thick stack of paper secured by a black binder clip, mumbling to himself. Frank liked him already. He loved when people were fucking weird.</p><p>"So," He started, half-yelling from the other side of the room, back turned to where Frank and Ray were sitting. "White House's a bitch, right? Where are you headed?"</p><p>"Toronto." Ray leaned forward and bounced his leg, giving Frank something to focus on.</p><p>"Ahhh…" </p><p>It was then that Frank noticed the shredder under the table, with a box of matches sitting on top of it. He smiled a little.</p><p>"Frank, I heard your guitar lines on the album, you sound sick, man." </p><p>Frank hummed in acknowledgement, trying not to let the intense impatience and fear cripple him. He just wanted to see Gerard.</p><p>"Speaking of which," It was like Geoff could read his mind. "Gerard has told me many a thing about you. I tell you, if there's anything that guy loves more than David Bowie, it's you."</p><p>There was a knock on the door and Frank's ears perked up. He practically shot up from his seat and trotted over to the door to help Gerard with his things. Gerard walked over the threshold and his hair was stuck to his face in a few places, his eyes were puffy and he was breathing through his mouth. He wasn't carrying anything, so he just ran up to Frank and hugged him, one hand tight across his back and one on the back of his head, holding him tight to his chest. Frank could almost see the relief wash over him. Gerard slipped his fingers under Frank's chin, pitched his head up to face him, and kissed him softly on the mouth. Once he pulled away, Frank got a good look at how much this situation was tearing Gerard apart. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, even though he was sleeping like a rock just a few hours earlier. Frank just kissed him again, standing in the entryway, while Mikey and Ray talked to Geoff, exchanging updates like old friends do.</p><p>"Are you okay?" Frank rubbed his thumb under Gerard's eye.</p><p>"No."</p><p>Geoff rounded the corner and pulled them both into the living room, gesturing at the glass table, which was fully equipped with a beefy laptop, USB cords, hard drives in four different colors, the match box from earlier, and a large metal bowl. "Gentlemen, the honors."</p><p>Gerard cleared his throat. "What about me? Definitely not a gentleman."</p><p>"Come on, Gee, you're nice." Geoff tapped his nails on the glass.</p><p>"No, I mean- fucking- nevermind."</p><p>"Anyway-"</p><p>Frank just watched Gerard, holding his hand tight, trying to help himself from being completely in love, even though none of his efforts were doing any good. He loved him. He was gonna run away with him and nothing was gonna stop him.</p><p>"I'll let you pick out what you wanna keep on your own, on your computer, put it in its own special folder, then plug this into there and we'll put it on one of these puppies so it'll be safe when we wipe the software completely clean."</p><p>Frank sat on Gerard's lap in a chair and sorted through his files, which were mostly just guitar riffs and ideas and random pictures with little pink hearts over his head. Sometimes Gerard was in them. He moved those photos to the <em> 'keep' </em>folder without question. </p><p>It only took him a few minutes, his last task being moving word document copies of all his angsty MySpace poetry into the drive one at a time, but it took Gerard a little longer. He moved voice files, videos, and word documents over, probably vocals and lyrics and little musings on, so private, yet so easily accessible if he ever put those ideas into music. Frank hoped that someday he'd get to hear them.</p><p>Gerard picked the pink hard drive, because <em> of course he did, </em>and bounced Frank on his knee a few times while he waited for the bar to fill up. As soon as that was done, Geoff slid the two laptops around to face him and the corners of his mouth turned up a little. He let them take one last look through everything and then typed around for a few minutes before abruptly shutting them both at the same time.</p><p>"Step one, check. Step two, phone time."</p><p>Gerard and Frank pulled their respective cells out of their pockets, Gerard's was in the opposite pocket that he usually kept it in, right where Frank was sitting on his left leg, so this resulted in some semi-awkward digging under Frank's ass for a few seconds while he stared wide-eyed at the floor. He prayed that no one saw how red his cheeks were.</p><p>He cleared his throat. "I'm just keeping pictures. I already wrote down the phone numbers I'm definitely not gonna remember, so she's as good as new for you." Frank slid his phone across the glass at Geoff, who connected one of the cords to the phone to his laptop, and pushed Frank's navy blue hard drive into one of the ports. He tapped on the screen a couple times, then set it down again.</p><p>"I'm really sorry for you guys." He said. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Frank and Gerard. "This shouldn't be happening. I'm always happy to help out but I wish this was just another old shady tour. It's not and I'm keeping you guys in my thoughts, okay?"</p><p>"Thanks." Gerard laid his hand on Frank's thigh. It was warm and it twitched every now and then. "You stay safe too, man, we put your name on the album and everything. If something goes haywire, you know where to find us, I guess."</p><p>"I'm pretty good at hiding. You're all done, Frank." He unplugged everything and pushed the little hard drive stick across the glass at him. He caught it in his hands. "Everything you have left of your digital footprint is on that stick. Don't lose it."</p><p>Frank put it in the bottom of his pocket. He wasn't going to lose it.</p><p>Gerard got his back and he sat there silently, still staring at the ground and cradling Frank relatively tightly. He just wanted this to be over so he could know for sure that everyone was going to be safe. Things were uncertain right now and that was boring a hole into him like he'd never felt before. Gerard was the type of guy to always know the answer to everything, and, as he'd already noticed, not knowing what the outcome of this weekend would be was ripping his heart from his chest. </p><p>Mikey was standing behind Gerard, rubbing his shoulders with one hand and brushing his hair with his other hand. "Is it paper burning time?" He looked mildly excited, but he still wouldn't move more than a few inches away from his brother, clinging tightly onto him like he was the last person in the world.</p><p>Geoff smiled a little as he pulled the cardboard box filled with Frank's papers closer to him, where the shredder sat to his right.. This must be his favorite part.</p><p>Gerard leaned down and picked up an accordion folder from the floor, neatly secured with a piece of leather cord and embellished only with the words: <em> 'DON'T KILL THESE!' </em>written in bold, boxy letters with black marker. He was in fact going to kill them.</p><p>Frank watched as the papers, three at a time, were dropped in and shredded. Each one felt like he was releasing parts of himself. Little by little he was freed more and more, stepping closer to the edge of the next page of his book, literally tearing each one out of the spine.</p><p>Gerard started to bounce his leg again. </p><p>Once the box was empty, Geoff untied the string around the folder and started pushing the sheets through, three at a time, listening to the motor spin the blades as he mumbled to himself like he did before. The last piece went all the way through and Geoff took the plastic basin off the bottom to empty it, as it was quite full, but instead of taking it to the trash, he stood up, grabbed the metal bowl and the matches, and gestured for everyone to follow him out to the backyard.</p><p>Frank, Gerard, and Mikey walked, basically, in a conga line out of the sliding glass door, Gerard's hands on Frank's hips underneath his shirt, and Mikey's hands on Gerard's shoulders.</p><p>They came to a patch of cement in the middle of the grass, a makeshift patio of sorts, with an empty metal fire pit, and Geoff took haste dumping the contents of the shredder into the pit. "Anybody need a smoke?" He said, holding two matches in his fist.</p><p>Gerard raised his hand and dug into his pocket again, pulling the last cigarette out of a crumpled box. Geoff struck the match and lit it for him while it was between Gerard's lips, shaking the match out and tossing it into the pit with the papers. He then took a big breath, sighed, and struck the second match in his hand, admiring the flame for a second before he let it fall. It caught the remains of every important document Frank and Gerard had ever owned, including their birth certificates and driver's licenses, debit cards and insurance cards, everything, from top to bottom. Their existences were now wiped completely off the map. Everyone watched the fire roar in the silent air, standing close to the flames as the night plunged into the cold November darkness. Ray stood next to Geoff, away from everyone, arms crossed over his chest, gazing into the smoke with solemn eyes. Frank wondered again what was inside Ray's mind. He was so pensive; there just <em> had </em>to be something lurking there. He leaned his head against Gerard's shoulder and shut his eyes, letting the glow dance around on the other side of his eyelids like a ferocious aura. He wanted the dark, dusty, passionate pink so badly but it never came. All he could see was the jet black and the amber red.</p><p>An hour later, the last of the fire finally smoldered out, and Geoff scooped the ashes into the metal bowl. "It's gonna be windy in the morning." He said. Of course he was planning on throwing them to the breeze, symbolic to the journey they had ahead of them. "You're almost done, boys. Just gotta take some photos, sign some fakes, and pick out some burner phones and you're on your way to being no one at all."</p><p>Gerard loosened up a little. He grabbed Frank's hand to compensate for his habit of reaching into his pocket to fidget with his phone, which was no longer there. He rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Frank's hand before he raised it to his lips and kissed it. He turned to Frank for the first time in well over an hour and a half and smiled anxiously in the dark. It was then that Frank finally got a good look at him even though he could hardly see him.</p><p>His skin was pale, almost reflecting back into the full moonlight. He was beautiful, still, but a shell of what he used to be. His theatrical hazel eyes were almost sunken into his skull and he didn't smile. He just looked at Frank, expressionless, telling him everything he needed to know: he couldn't bear to wait any longer.</p><p>They all walked back into the house in silence, leaving the bowl of ashes to disperse themselves as they pleased. Geoff picked up a camera from a shelf and pulled Frank by the hand in front of a blank, white wall. He took two photos, let him look at them, and then did the same with all the rest of the guys, first Gerard, then Mikey, and Ray last. He still didn't say anything. No one did. The room was heavy and the oxygen was gelatinous in their lungs.</p><p>Geoff then hunched over his laptop at the glass table while everyone just sat on the living room carpet.</p><p>"Well," Ray started, the light of his phone screen glowing against his face. "I gotta pack and come back here tomorrow with Mikey, and I'll pick up you guys' stuff, then we'll head out at like- 2:00am Sunday morning, okay? We wanna leave during the night where no one will see us."</p><p>They all nodded, and Frank kept his eyes on Gerard. He had his knees hugged to his chest and his left hand tightly holding Frank's left one. </p><p>Frank had been really trying as hard as he could to pretend like he had his shit together the whole day, swallowing the shock that wore off with each movement of his limbs so that he didn't have to face it, because he knew that if his soul absorbed all of this at once, it would kill him. But now the knots he'd tied his stomach in were starting to unravel, and he felt it all rise into his chest. He tried to just soothe it away- slow, labored breaths in through his nose to try and distract himself from the adrenaline, but it did no good. Frank just let go, clutched Gerard's hand with a death grip, shut his eyes, and had a panic attack on the floor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. viii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have returned!!! it's about time honestly, this chapter is a thick one and it was equally as hard to write, so i separated it into two parts to make it easier to swallow (definitely not to build as much tension as possible, nonono... :)) but here she is!</p>
<p>i promise i don't like to hurt your guys' feelings so try not to worry about our boys too much</p>
<p>here's part one of the last real chapter of razz !</p>
<p>follow me if u so please :3<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes<br/>lj- pennilessheroes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>let's go paint the town</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>on our way home</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>the blinking lights</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>are breaking bones</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>cast all your spells</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>and then you have</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>that good old fashioned razzmatazz</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Laying on his back across the back seat of Gerard's car, Frank started to get the feeling back in his limbs. The city lights passing by cast white and orange blocks into his eyes and he blinked them away, tasting the rust formed from the salt on the iron in the back of his throat while his lungs recovered from the gasps of desperation, clinging on to every last molecule of air. It felt like he had been holding his breath for a minute straight, head just under the surface of shallow pools, and he had finally beaten the contest, jumped out of the water, and hacked up so much fluid that he'd burned himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You okay now, Frankie?" Gerard must have noticed his breathing had slowed down, finally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank hummed, distant and exhausted from the panic. His brain was already curling in on itself to keep him from feeling it, blurring his vision like that would stop the fear from progressing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world was carrying on as usual. People were swarming the streets and smiling at each other like nothing had happened just that morning. Frank felt so incredibly small. He felt like nobody could see him in this mass, and his heart was slipping away like a wet mass off the edge of a clumsy plate, splatting onto the floor and ending his life right in front of him. He couldn't focus on how much he needed Gerard right now, he couldn't focus on how beautiful of a night it was, windows down, biting fall breeze in his face, none of it. All he could think about was how none of this actually mattered, but, somehow, someone could pop out of the crowd and meet his eyes from the car and find him. Frank didn't want anyone to ever find him. He wanted to be nothing, no one, nowhere. The only thing he wanted to be was Gerard's. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was far past dark now, and Frank pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his knuckles. "Are you?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard didn't reply. He hadn't said much all day, which was so unlike him that it scared Frank. It was very unsettling for someone who was always saying something about something to be completely silent. It was like Gerard wasn't even there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank sat up and leaned forward to put his hand on Gerard's shoulder, and it made Gerard physically recoil. He threw on the brakes and instantly pulled into the closest parking lot, a deserted strip mall with weeds growing through the cracks in the concrete. Gerard remembered all the uncomfortable clothes his mom had forced him to wear to church when he was a little kid that were bought here. He crookedly pulled into a parking spot and shut the car off, throwing the keys into a cup holder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Shit." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gerard swore and covered his face with his hands. He buried his face in the corner between the seat and the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank climbed into the front seat, throat still sore and dry, eyes swollen with the tears he wouldn't let Gerard see. He knew that they would only make him worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard sat there and breathed before he sat straight up all at once and kissed Frank. He pulled him by the belt loops of his jeans onto his lap, legs on either side of him. He just held him there, hugging him tight around his back, humid, quick pants into Frank's ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm scared as shit to lose you. I really don't want to be alone. I can't think of anything that would describe the way I feel right now. It's like I got fucking poisoned."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so safe, and Frank always felt that he melted into him like a glacier feeding the lush evergreens when they hugged. The moon reflected on the puddles lining the path bisecting the rows of trees in the forest in the space between them, like blocks of ice in the cold air that was still pouring in through the windows. Frank's fingers were numb and he warmed them by tucking them behind Gerard's back in all his layers of soft clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over his shoulder, Gerard's eyes were shut tight. He thought about how he still hadn't bought himself a bottle of Frank's pine-scented shampoo. He was overwhelmed with his smell; greasy, faded pink sides grown out now, but still pungent with it. In the forest crammed into the atomic space between them, Frank was the trees, the needles, the color. Dark green and ethereal. He was the golden sun in between the leaves, the canopy, the shade, the shelter. Without him Gerard was standing alone in a clearing, spinning in circles, dizzy and fizzy like overripe champagne. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You won't." Frank whispered, kissing Gerard's chest through his shirt. He could feel his pulse racing with his lips. He loved feeling the movement under his face. "We're not going anywhere if we're not together, you know that, right?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know- just-" Gerard paused and put his hands on Frank's hips like he always loved to do. "I don't know what I'm doing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank looked up at him, sitting up slightly. "You don't have to, hell, I don't know either."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, it's- it's not like that. I don't want to do what I know I have to do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brow. He put his hand on the side of Gerard's face, it was still a little cold, so it shocked Gerard enough to get him to look into his eyes. "What do you think you have to do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I…" He hesitated, breaking eye contact to stare out the window at the completely pitch black parking lot. There was nothing to see, not even a reflection of the side of Frank's face in the glass. It was dismal and abysmal like the brew in his stomach, nervous. The night was swallowing them both whole, but Gerard felt like it was chewing on him first, dragging him further and further away from Frank, and he was kicking and screaming, writhing at the pain in his ankles, but he'd wished for it. It had been lingering on his doorstep for weeks and he just ignored it, even still as it forced its heinous tentacles through the cracks in the foundation of his house. "I… I can't go with you guys tomorrow. I have to- to go alone- I'm sorry I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gerard, what? Are you kidding?" The panic was still rotting in the pit of his stomach, buried like a body that he was trying to hide under the snow that was rapidly melting in the spring sun. "You just said-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, I know. I just- I don't want to put you in danger- I mean, everyone fucking knows I like guys and they're gonna hunt me down first and I don't want you to-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank cut him off. "Did you forget that I'm roped into this too? I'm in the band, I'm just as deep into the shit as you are, Gee."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's why it's already too late. I'd rather you go ahead of me and get out so that they catch me following behind than have them find all four of us at once- </span>
  <em>
    <span>God- </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can't let Mikey get dragged into this… he's my baby brother, Frank."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Babe, he's gonna be fine, we can get him to go with Ray in his big ass van where he's got places to hide, we don't all have to go in the same car." Frank tried to pull Gerard's gaze back to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just think about it for one second, Frank-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am. If you think I'm leaving this train wreck without you…" Frank's stomach dropped at the thought. He loved Gerard so goddamn much and it stung like a wasp on a tender piece of skin. It grew inflamed and blistered and he shook with it. "You- you told me a month ago that you weren't going to leave me. What the hell was that?" Frank still didn't raise his voice, even though his words urged him to. The day he raised his voice at Gerard in anger would never come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I- I don't know. It's just- the more time I spend with you, the more I realize that I can't put you through this. I can't do it. I can't look you in the eyes, I can't kiss you, I can't hardly touch you without thinking about how badly this could go. Believe me when I say that I really don't want to go without you, but I have to. What if something happened?" Gerard took his hands off Frank and laid one of them on top of his pocket, fingers tracing the outline of something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gerard," Frank put his hands on either side of his face, thumbing under his eyes and watching them fret to and fro, avoiding him. He paused, listening to him breathe as he said his name, and he was so, so in love. "Gerard, I… I would fucking die for you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm serious. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>you would never let me out of your sight. What's that worth now?" Frank was still calm, the cooing tone still present in his voice, pawing at Gerard like a hungry puppy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard fixed his eyes on the cup holder to his right, repeatedly counting the three quarters stacked neatly inside, and he felt drawn to them, like they were the only things keeping him from floating off into the sky. It was easier to look over how little money he had to his name than to look Frank in the eye, or to even look at him at all. "I untied the cords."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"What?!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Frank stressed the last consonant in his question, pressing his fingers into Gerard's skin the tiniest bit firmer so he would pull himself back into reality at the slightest sensation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll give you a copy of an uncrossing ritual, Frank, I don't know what else to do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I have an idea." He leaned back a little, shifting his weight on Gerard's lap. It was so cold out there, so far away from him. It felt like outer space, asteroids, the frigid, lonely, silent expanse of nothing was making his ears ring. This might have been as alone as Frank had ever felt, even though he was sitting on Gerard's lap. The pitch black may as well consume him. "Easy. You take me with you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I already said I can't, Frank." He was just stern enough to make Frank blink at him, mouth slightly open. "Listen, I don't think I would survive here or in Toronto with or without you if I knew that I let something happen to you-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you're making me go alone, where you will never know if something actually does happen to me? Baby, don't push me away </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Frank tried to look into him, but the wall was already up and sealed. The forest was lined with a steel gate and it was covered in ancient ivy that clouded his view. He felt confined to the little patch of grass, trapped in the prison where he was told he would be protected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't do this." Gerard was choking back tears. His voice shook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> do this. You've proven that you can do anything. You just don't want to do it with me." Frank climbed off his lap and into the passenger seat again. He huffed and chewed on his hoodie sleeve that was pulled over his knuckles. Anything was better than biting his nails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think I have the choice here?" Gerard pulled one of his knees up to his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes! You clearly changed your mind since the last time we talked about this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not arguing with you. I made up my mind and I'm not putting you in danger just so-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank clicked his tongue and turned towards him. "Just so what? Tell me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard swallowed a lump in his throat and hesitated a little. "I'm not putting you in danger just so we can hookup."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that all this is to you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow Gerard's initial fears about their relationship had transferred to him like a bad contagion. Was Gerard just in love with him because he was good in bed? Was it just pity sex because he had aired out all his wounds and let them scab over with Gerard's herb poultice? Did Gerard really think that Frank only loved him because he got to sleep with his favorite vocalist? Did he join the band just for secret flings, stolen away in venue bathrooms, whispering sweet nothings on top of screams in the backing tracks of songs that no one would ever be able to pick out?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Frankie, I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you love me? Or is it just the sex?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you!" Gerard didn't even look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then take me with you. If you think even for a second that I'm only here for- for the sex, for your body, for- whatever the fuck, you are sorely mistaken. Gerard-" Frank grabbed his jaw, turning his head to face him, finally getting a good look at the fear in his eyes, even though he could barely see him in the dark. "Gerard, I'm so in love with you that I can't physically take it. It makes me hurt. It aches. When you were out recording with the guys, and- and I didn't see you for months, those were the hardest months I'd had in a long time. I love you so much that I forget how to be a human person when you're not around. I love you so much that it drives me insane."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard was silent again. He kept outlining something in his pocket, but Frank didn't notice. He blinked and started to cry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The loneliness made his fingers throb. His joints were molten, suspended in zero gravity, turning his guts to mush, melding fluids together like some kind of gorey cocktail. He'd rather drink the mix of blood and bile than leave Gerard, especially now, but the exhaustion begged him to rest and give up. He could usually get Gerard to budge, change his mind, take his hand and make him see, but he felt like he was stuck in cement. His body was weak and crippled and his throat was still dry. Helpless and afraid, cowering like a child in the corner of the car he let go of Gerard's face and let his hand drop into his own lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank wracked his brain to find something to say but nothing would come. He had nothing left. He could bicker back and forth and beg Gerard not to leave him behind but that would do no good. There was still so much he didn't know about him, cloaked in mystery and completely firm in his footing, operating like a well-oiled machine. Gerard was magical, powerful, everything Frank wanted to be and more. He was spectacular, incredible, every beautiful compliment Frank could come up with and more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like this for way too long. Quiet. Painful. Every restless word Frank could come up with and more. Then Gerard opened a buttoned pocket in his coat and pulled out a brown paper packet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Take this. Follow the instructions." Gerard whispered, still not looking at him. He set it on Frank's lap and turned the keys in the ignition again, pulling out and driving Frank home without saying a word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank pressed into the paper with his fingers, identifying the shape of one of Gerard's many glass cork bottles and a candle. His heart felt like it was going to stop. He was paralyzed in the seat, every inkling of him pleading to just be given a second chance, to stay sitting in that car. But for some reason, he was fine with it. It felt natural, like the peak of a mountain, the end of a cycle, the last pebbles of a gravel road. He hated that it was something he was used to, something he expected; regardless of how his fears showed themselves in the beginning. He fell in love with Gerard the moment he saw him for the first time, and, just as quickly, Gerard had completely disappeared and fallen out. He wondered where he went wrong to get him to let go like that. It was completely polar from where they'd been, say, a week ago. This weighed heavy on his guilty conscience, relaying every word he'd ever said to Gerard and debating whether it was the final straw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Frank could see it. He could see how smitten Gerard was for him. He could see how he forced every word out in a monotonous tone, like his heart and his head were at war. His voice wasn't his and neither were the syllables it produced, removed and beyond recognition. Frank knew that this wasn't really what Gerard wanted, but there was no way of uncovering the mud that caked his thoughts. There was no way of getting him to admit that this was a mistake, and even if he could, there was no way he'd ever understand it. So as much as it pained him, he got it. He got why Gerard was so secretive, so closed off and standing off to the side. He was extremely empathetic, protective, all of the above, like a wing of an angel descending down from the Heavens over him to shield him from Hell's fire, which was raining down like a monsoon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, Frank knew that, someday, he would find Gerard again. That gave him peace. He knew that somewhere, in the city streets of Toronto, under the city lights in the city rain, he would come running back, like he always had, and tangle him in his limbs so tightly that he couldn't escape, even if he really wanted to. He knew that Gerard loved him too much to ever truly leave. It was just for tomorrow night…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard pulled the car right up to the entrance of Frank's apartment building, looking at his lap still. Frank sat there for a second or two, staring at him like he would never see him again. This was partly true, he didn't actually know the next time he'd find him, so this was like the last gulp of a glass of soda as your family was already leaving the booth, but you're still sliding across the vinyl seat and running behind. The straw is in your mouth still and you're pushing the cup along the table as you go, trying to move as fast as you can before you're left behind. Frank wanted to absorb as much of him as he could. Gerard was beautiful, even if he refused to look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard jumped a little and dug around the same pocket he'd been handling all night, before pulling out a small, dark, dusty, passionate pink, velvet box and handing it to Frank. It was labeled with: '</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't open this until you're safe.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you." Frank said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you more." Gerard whispered, wrestling with his fingers in his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"When will I see you again?" Frank didn't dare touch him, as much as he ached to, because then he wouldn't be able to let go. He couldn't lie, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he wanted, but that wouldn't help at all. He didn't want to argue with Gerard again. He just wanted him to see his side, which wasn't gonna happen. He gripped the packet and the box in both his hands and leaned against the door panel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"In the razzmatazz."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Frank was alone again. He watched Gerard's car slowly drive off and disappear, following his tail lights for as long as he could see until he turned right and was gone. He was gone. He stood there, in the cold, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. All he wanted was to be back with Gerard, singing with him, touching him, kissing his lips that were always so soft and warm, listening to his rough, scratchy voice. He missed him so much that his stomach growled. He felt starved to death already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked up the stairs this time, expressionless, jump-scaring himself with every step of his shoes on the steps, empty and devoid of any shade of the definition of humanity. He felt like a ghost. He'd said it himself that he would rather be a corpse than lose Gerard, and now, there he was, decomposing before his very own eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank reached his apartment, opened the door with shaky hands like he always did when Gerard was trying to take off his clothes, and shut it behind him. The window looking out over the city was worthless to him. He didn't wonder about all the little people anymore. He didn't follow their beautiful little lives. He walked past it and slammed his bedroom door, burying his face in the top sheet. He had never felt more alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank had never envied the souls lost in Hell. Now, he thought, at least they are surrounded by the ones they loved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened the packet now, dumping its contents onto his bed. He stuck the little pink box into his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a glass bottle about the size of Frank's thumb, a black candle, a bundle of matches and a strip of strike paper, a piece of pink yarn, two labeled metal tins, and three labeled bags of herbs, as well as an index card with Gerard's blocky, neat cursive scrawled across it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In each of the bags was basil, chives, and rosemary, and in each of the tins was myrrh and salt. Frank had no idea what he was meant to do with these things, even though he had detailed instructions to follow. He didn't have it in his heart to sever ties. He couldn't make himself believe anything. All he wanted was to be with him. The world was huge and lonely now, and he missed the heat and the small feeling that he got when he was around Gerard. There had to be another way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked up the card and read it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'UNCROSSING RITUAL' </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the only piece of Gerard that he had left. His handwriting was familiar. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the ridges where he pressed his pen into the paper a little too hard, writing in urgency.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'Surround yourself and your supplies in a circle of salt on the floor un-breaking. This will protect you. Do not leave the circle or reach outside of it until the spell is done. Do not bring anything inside the circle.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'Burn the myrrh in a metal or glass bowl, not a plastic one, unless you wanna die from the fumes, Frank.' </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He teared up at his name. It was like he was still there. He could hear his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'Then pour each bag of herbs in the bottle, break/cut/unravel the yarn and put what's left in the bottle and seal it with the cork. Light the candle and drip the wax over the bottle until the candle is too short to hold. You'll know when it's time.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he would. Of course he would know when it was time. If it was time for this to happen, he'd be much more sure of himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There had to be another way.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought it was odd that Gerard never included what the herbs were for, he'd always told Frank on and on as he was falling asleep how important it was that he remember, and he'd shown him the endless lists in his book of every herb he kept and every possible correlation for each one. The backside of the card was blank. Either it was rushed and he forgot- no- it wasn't like Gerard to be this unorganized. Maybe he knew that Frank was clueless and wouldn't question that these ingredients were solely for banishing him to another realm. He was party correct.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was ten minutes to midnight, so Frank used these last precious seconds left in his data service to Google the herbs and scribble the meanings that resulted on the back of the card. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew that this wasn't what Gerard wanted him to do, but what the fuck else was he meant to do? He would ruin and backfire the magic if his heart wasn't in it, that's what Gerard always told him, and the last thing he wanted was to bring more harm onto himself than he already had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Basil. Purity, good wishes, banishing…love...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chives. Protection, divination, banishing… love…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosemary. Memory, empowerment, banishing… love…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Myrrh. Money, luck, banishing… love…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything had a common factor here. Everything that could be used for this ritual could also be used for something else. Was this Gerard's intention? Was Frank actually stupidly clever? He smiled to himself for a second and then scooped everything up in his hands to his living room floor, where something was sitting right where he wanted to set up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Gerard's grimoire, open to the page he had been showing him before Frank lost focus and kissed him till he carried him to bed. He'd left it there. Of course it was a page on all the love and consequent uncrossing spells he'd done. He remembered that Gerard had told him that he'd performed so many uncrossing rituals to undo these spells after guys didn't work out that he could do it with his eyes closed. One of the lines on the list read: </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Return my love: basil, chives, rosemary, myrrh. Page 40.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn't a mix up. There </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>another way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reversal spell underneath this one didn't have these ingredients, and neither did any of them, for that matter. He dragged his pinky up and down the page twice, trying to prove to himself that he read it wrong but he didn't. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were both stupidly clever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flipped each page till he reached the marked one, and the instructions were worded almost exactly like the ones on the index card.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Frank laid the book on the floor and stood up, pouring the salt just to his right so that he stayed inside it. He'd watched Gerard do this twice, thankfully he paid enough attention the second time, since he was too turned on to sit still the first time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closed it and sat back down, book in his lap, and struck a match, tossing it into the bowl filled with resin. The book smelled like him. He missed his weight on his waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank filled the bottle with the herbs and he felt at home, at ease, in company. He didn't feel as alone anymore, and every drop of blood that his heart warmed up was pulsing through his arteries with this purpose, he loved Gerard more than he could comprehend and this was only the start of him physically explaining that. The moon was high in the sky, throwing the room into a pit of darkness, so that the only light that illuminated Frank's task was the smoldering glow of burning myrrh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smell was comforting. It was like he was sitting in the guest room down the hall from Gerard's bedroom, surrounded by so many different smokey smells and plants that he couldn't focus on just one: they all melded together to form a perfume that he wanted to wear forever. His living room was enchanting. It was like a wave of laughter, of joy, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>love, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Frank missed it. He missed it even though it brimmed his sinuses to the point that his eyes watered. Or maybe he was crying tears of joy, he'd never tell, but whatever it was, he couldn't think of anything other than Gerard. He was artfully packing the tiny, dried leaves into the bottle like sand for a castle on the beach. Frank was sure that if he kept this up, he could build an entire kingdom with these herbs, packed tightly into bricks that each contained a tiny piece of his soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank picked up the tiny strand of yarn and tied it in a knot. That wasn't even in the directions, but he felt like he had to. He could see himself, Gerard, and those beautiful ribbons that Ray had tied, and how they were all one again, joined at the wrist. He got this feeling that Gerard had either tied the cords again, or he lied and never untied them at all. Either way, the union was sacred again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dropped the string, in its bundle of knots, into the bottle and pressed it down with his finger like he had for everything else, and then put the cork in. He didn't waste any time; striking another match and lighting the candle. It started to drip immediately, and he just let the excess black wax solidify on the floor. Nothing mattered right now except for this spell. Nothing mattered except for the love he was feeling right now. Nothing mattered. He was sure that he would come back anyway, since he'd left his prized possession on the floor of an apartment that would be gutted out by the end of the next day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And just like Gerard said, the heat of the candle flame touched his fingers, burning away to the last half-inch-long stub of wax, and he blew it out. The bottle was unrecognizable, coated in a thick layer of dark gray, shiny wax. Frank admired it while it cooled and dried, looking at it with wide puppy eyes like he would look at Gerard with. He could almost see Gerard's face reflecting back at him in the gloss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The myrrh was mostly burned away by now, and Frank had been sitting in the dark for a while, beaming at the bottle he'd created, knowing that Gerard would be proud of him. He set it down on the floor and pushed some of the salt away with his finger so he could get up. He scraped it all into a pile on the floor, shut himself in his room, and waited. He'd done all he could. There was nothing left now except to trust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank swore and wished he was better at being patient.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He woke up, alone, to the sun in his eyes again. He was too exhausted to close the curtains, and he was mad about it, even though most times that he'd fallen asleep before that, it was with Gerard and he was too busy getting his pants off to think about his future self…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat up, squinted, and pulled his jeans on again, buckling his belt as he walked out into his living room again. He wiped his finger over his teeth since he'd already packed his toothbrush, (genius move) and went to pick up as much of the salt off the hardwood floor as he could. He collected everything from the night before and put it all back in the brown paper packet, and shoved it in his pocket. As he was doing so he realized that the little pink box that Gerard had given him the night before was still in there, as well as the navy blue hard drive that held the last of him. He took the box out and rolled it over and over in his hands, but feeling no need to open it. He would see in the morning, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank sat down at his dining room table, rubbing his bare feet back and forth along the rug underneath, tapping his fingers on the thick, heavy book sitting in front of him. He knew Gerard would be back for it. Did he plan that? Did his memory defeat him in efforts to get all his shit together? Frank wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wasn't leaving until he saw him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked over his shoulder at the time displayed in blue numbers on the kitchen stove. It was 11:00am already. Frank slept like a rock that had just fallen off of a mountain after a landslide and now sat in a ditch. In just fifteen hours he would be on the road and leaving the country. He didn't like that. He only wanted to think about it if he was going to be doing it with Gerard. So he waited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank sat in front of the window in the living room again, watching for Gerard's car, pretending like he knew what the top of it looked like so he could act like he recognized it, heart stopping every time a silver hatchback came around the corner. He would follow them down the road into the hallway to look over the parking lot below, but none of them ever turned into it. He would walk back and plop himself down on the floor in front of the picture window in shame every single time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes he would just stand at the little window at the end of the hall and watch the people get in and out of their cars, hoping that one of his neighbors would magically transform into Gerard and come running up the stairs for him. None of them ever did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was getting hungry. He prayed that Gerard would read his mind and bring him a bagel from the coffee shop he liked to go to and draw in. He rummaged through his pantry anyway, settling on a stale box of pita chips that he took over to the TV. The first thing that came on was the news and he immediately skipped to the next channel and watched whatever sorry excuse for a drama that paranormal investigation show was. It just droned on in the background. He couldn't focus on what they were saying. His stomach fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and not because he really shouldn't be eating these chips right now, but because the time was passing way too quickly and he still hadn't heard anything from anyone. Sure, his phone was shut off, but everyone knew his address. It was only one o'clock. It took him till almost dark to pack yesterday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank tried to indulge in being alone. He tried to get himself back into the routine he always followed before he met Gerard, never having any interest in letting anyone in, and shrill from energy being completely alone for weeks on end, never leaving the house for anything at all. The silence was all too familiar, but it felt alien. It felt wrong. He knew why, and he knew it really can't last much longer, but his apartment was empty. Literally. His guitar was downstairs in his car and so were his notebooks and markers, so he didn't exactly have anything to do besides rot his brain watching television and stuffing carbs and salt down his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just let the episodes play. He just let the blocks of sun behind him dance across the floor ever so slowly, and with each repeating commercial he grew more and more impatient. Frank's entire torso was on fire by the time he'd had enough, so much so that he felt he could scream and never stop. The walls were caving in on him and the ceiling was sagging over his head, space shrinking smaller and smaller the more breaths he took. So he did just what he felt he had to: picked up one of the pillows from the couch and just screamed into it, clawing at the plush fabric and letting his spit soak it through. He kicked his feet like he always did when he was a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, things never changed, and his arms shook with how tightly he was gripping it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There would always be a hole in him, a place where someone had once inhabited, lived, thrived, and there would always be an ache that could never be soothed away. Frank was convinced that he would never feel better about everyone that had shut him out of their lives, everyone that had used him, manipulated him, made him feel like garbage, or anything for that matter. He really thought he would never get better, and a part of him hoped that as well. Maybe if he never recovered, he wouldn't ever have to admit that the people who hung around him like scarecrows to try and 'fix' him actually made him feel just special enough to justify sleeping with them every night. If he got better, he wouldn't have a reason to cling on to people, and that scared him. He didn't like the idea of liking someone just to like them, but he found himself loving Gerard. Frank loved him so much, and he loved him just to love him. He couldn't bear this any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank was sick with it. He was sick with how much he loved him, and no amount of sticking his hand down his pants was ever gonna describe that, he was aware, but he pulled to Gerard like a magnet. All he was now was just a piece of metal sitting on the floor, pulling to no one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just wanted Gerard to come and help him, to pick his sorry ass up off the floor and help him. He was desperate for anyone at this point, not for sex, at least, he was sure of that, but for anyone who had the knuckles to knock on his door to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>do it already</span>
  </em>
  <span> so he could find a reason to clean himself up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank's eyes shot open and he brought his head back up from its place against the sofa, rolling himself onto his belly on the cold floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck-"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I left my book here, I could help you with that if you want."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank looked up and Gerard was walking closer to him, smirking a little like he always did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>would you? Please?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he did, carrying him like a damsel to bed and kicking the door shut with his foot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're fucking stupid." Frank said, buttoning his jeans and sitting up to hug Gerard, arms tight around his waist. "What the fuck happened last night?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard didn't answer that question. "You figured it out." He said, proudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>That's </span>
  </em>
  <span>what you wanted me to do? All of that back and forth bullshit that really fucking hurt me… for that?" Frank backed away a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just sighed, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're a damn good actor, Gerard."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I'm not, I was actually having real doubts, I just- I just didn't know how else to talk about them without making you worry, but I hurt you anyway, so we both really would have been better off just being straight up. I'm-" Gerard paused and sighed. "I'm scared. And- and you know that already. We're all fucking scared, and I'm just sorry. I'm sorry that it has to be like this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think I'm mad at </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>for this? Do you think I'm ever mad at you at all?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was true. As upset as Frank was with how things went last night he wasn't mad at him. He understood, hell, he accepted the better part of it for quite a long stretch of time, but by no means was he mad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just want to make it better. I knew that neither of us would ever truly leave, so I just waited for you to figure it out yourself in the only way I knew how. But I really didn't mean to leave my book here, that was not in the plan." Gerard glanced over at it, sitting on the table next to Frank's bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank giggled and put his hand on Gerard's thigh, just below the end of his boxers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're smart, Frankie. Honestly the longer I was awake last night the more I started to get worried that you weren't gonna crack the code and I actually fucked it up, because I wasn't getting that gut feeling, you know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just rested his chin on his hand and watched him talk. It was like a cold drink of water to listen to him again, even though it had been just a few short hours since he'd even seen him last. And he was so in love with him. "I love you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you more." Gerard ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, which was starting to get long again. "I just left from helping Mikey pack, we're gonna all meet at Ray's and take his- as you say it- </span>
  <em>
    <span>big ass van.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Gerard made air quotes with his free hand, all the while smiling at Frank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Does that mean-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah!" He grinned, shifting to face Frank on the bed. "We get our own row of seats!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Frank felt stupid. Stupid for forgiving him so quickly, stupid for falling for it, stupid for loving him so much. The memories still relayed in his head, a bowling ball in a racquetball court, wondering still how he gave up so easily and let Gerard out-talk him. What an embarrassment of a Scorpio, he thought, to refuse himself the last word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But really though," Gerard brushed his hair out of his face and tucked some strands behind his ear. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that way. I should've just asked what we should do, but it's like-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"-Every ounce of you begs you not to." Frank finished Gerard's sentence. "I know. I want to be with you for as long as the world is still spinning and well after it stops, but last night, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every ounce of me begged me not to, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because I just knew you needed space. Somehow, I got it. I knew you'd come back, and I was right."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank laid his head on Gerard's shoulder, feeling the vibrations of his voice rattling his bones. His bare skin was like silk. He kissed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you still believed it. You accepted it. I felt it in you. For a split second, I thought you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone and it scared me, but I couldn't bring myself to ask you if that was the last time I was ever gonna see you because- because I felt like- just maybe- you wouldn't turn back around."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But I did. I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You tested the waters and they came back clean. Now you're kneeling at the beach of the spring and you're safe." Frank had been spending way too much time with Gerard already; he was starting to talk like him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess I am…" Gerard slowly leaned into Frank, kissing him softly and pinning him down by the hips. His favorite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard just let himself breathe, on his belly with his cheek against Frank's ribs, rise and fall, and rise and fall, and rise and fall, like a metronome guiding him through the darkness. He felt like a ghost in the night, drifting through the walls in a trance that knows two things: one, haunt or be forever haunted by the words your body uttered in its prime, and two, love and be forever loved by the one still standing at your grave listening to you moan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Haunt or be forever haunted by the images of what you could have lost, null and void through the days as you watch through bloodless eyes the horror of an impulsive brain, bleeding through the lace, high on adrenaline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Love and be forever loved by the soul whose body you killed, and who forgave you before you could even fathom what you'd done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>These two mixed into a double helix of cardiac, binding Gerard by the thin tissue that held his muscles together, hopefully keeping him in one piece. He loved it. He didn't dare to complain about the conflict inside of him, regrets and sorrows ever brewing like a kettle that just won't scream and boil. But this double helix made him who he was. Gerard wouldn't be </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gerard</span>
  </em>
  <span> unless he was fighting with his DNA over what he'd said after sunset.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We should get going." Gerard ran his hand all the way up and down Frank's torso, admiring the way his body flowed; how his belly stuck out a little, how the little trail of hair down from his navel was perfectly straight, how his hips were so </span>
  <em>
    <span>lovely</span>
  </em>
  <span>… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We should."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're taking a straight shot so we don't get spotted at any gas stations, which, in the middle of the night, shouldn't be hiding any cops, but I have a feeling they'd tip us off and they'd make deductions. So, this is the last time I get you off for a while."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Glad it was a good one, then." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat up and got dressed, fixing each other's hair and straightening each other's wrinkled jean cuffs and scratching spots they couldn't reach on each other's backs… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They made one last scan of the apartment together, holding hands, and Gerard held his book tightly to his chest in his free hand. They didn't pick anything up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank locked his door and pocketed his keys, let go of Gerard's hand like a nauseating routine until they got inside the elevator. He kissed him, like clockwork, just before the door opened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were both outside the entrance to the building and Gerard stopped right on the threshold for a moment.. Frank turned to him and sighed. "What? Are you coming?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and let the door close behind him. "Yeah, just needed a second to leave it behind."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From there, they walked out to Frank's car and the old Misfits CD started up again. He was gonna miss it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Man, don't look so sappy about it, I'll get you a new CD." Gerard said, grimacing at the way it skipped and warped. </span>
</p>
<p><span>"Do you </span><em><span>know </span></em><span>how many memories I've made to this CD? Do you know how many guys I've blown and blown </span><em><span>off </span></em><span>to this</span><em><span>, </span></em><span>and</span> <span>all the times I got my heart broken to this CD? It makes me sad."</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard smiled and touched Frank's thigh with the backs of his fingers. "It's time to start over, Frankie. Let all the shitty car seat blowjobs go."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank half-laughed-half-sighed and started the car. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>time to let it all go. He wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or cry. He didn't think about it. He just let his mind numb itself out as he followed Gerard's directions to a tidy row of little brick cottages, each with metal barred doors instead of screens over each front entrance. There was what he assumed was Ray's navy blue van, sitting in the driveway of one of these houses. He pulled in to the right of it and yanked the parking brake up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Finally." He huffed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You okay?" Gerard cooed, blinking at him as his own anxiety started to help chill him with the winter air outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah," Frank hesitated to undo his seat belt, with his hands still on the wheel, even though the car was turned off. "I just fucking hate driving."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>stay tuned for part 2!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. ix</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>part 2!! this is the last real chapter, next is the epilogue, and i'm kinda sad about it :( i've worked so hard on this fic for the past few weeks and i'm not sure what to do with my life now that i don't have anything to write. i'll find something.</p>
<p>this took extra long because i wanted to post both parts right next to each other so that i didn't leave you guys hanging on a sour ending, so here it is. i hope u like.</p>
<p>special thanks once again to my best friend shannen, i would not have gotten this far without her encouragement. and im extending that thank you to everyone who has left a comment on this work, you guys have no idea how much those things mean to me. you make writing a little bit easier.</p>
<p>it's been a long ride. i hope you enjoyed it. i know i sure did.</p>
<p>follow me if you'd like B)<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes<br/>lj- pennilessheroes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ray was silent except for his gentle reassurances to Mikey, whose leg hadn't stopped bouncing the entire time they were there. He gave them all little mugs of water and promised that he would get his coffee maker to work soon, swearing at it under his breath as he took parts off one by one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank, once again, was watching him do this, trying to get into his head and understand him. He looked up to him in just about every way, and he'd tried to outline that already, but his analyses never got anywhere. Ray just blew his curls out of his face and shoved his wide, strong fingers into the little crevices that he thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>just had to be clogged, right?</span>
  </em>
  <span> His hair was starting to grow out, and as much as it annoyed him to constantly pluck hair out of his eyes, he didn't seem to mind the new change in style. It definitely made him ten times more handsome than he already was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard was glued to Frank's side, either holding his hand or keeping a steady weight on his lower back, unwavering, but he looked uneasy watching Mikey sit alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can go to him." Frank whispered, gesturing to Gerard's brother sitting with his knees together on the sofa against the back wall in the living room, separate from where everyone was sitting in front of the TV that was playing cartoons on low volume. Of course Ray was the type of guy to watch cartoons in his free time. That was comforting for some reason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the little things that made someone human that Frank just absolutely adored. He loved it when people glowed when you offhandedly mention something they're interested in, or how they interacted with the spaces that they organized in such a way, or when they </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have a very specific thing go in one exact way so that they could function. Frank loved watching people, not even just from the windows of his apartment or from the gates of the airport, but in intimacy, in these little casual settings where no one really thinks about how beautiful they are when their minds are centered. It was so personal, so sacred, something he felt like he didn't really have the right to observe, even though he was the one invited in. So Frank watched Ray from the couch and he swelled with respect for him. It was one thing to drool over his guitar playing one day and then be sitting in his living room six months later, but that didn't really bother Frank anymore. This man cared enough about his friends that he deleted himself from existence to make sure they were safe and sound. How could someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> respect that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray finally got the machine to work after a relieved </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Aha!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>and stepped out of view into the rest of the kitchen. His hair glowed in the yellow fluorescent lighting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard was sitting next to Mikey, who was leaning his head on his shoulder, and Gerard was holding the side of his face, whispering to him. Frank wished eternally that he had just one sibling, so he could have this type of bond. He envied them. His family didn't give him affection like this growing up, not even his own mother, so watching Gerard care for Mikey like this filled him with longing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What time is it now?" Gerard and Mikey both stood up, walking the exact same gait like two clones, or maybe a program in a mirror. "We're gonna go for a walk." Gerard looked at Frank, who nodded and mouthed 'I love you' at him. Gerard smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's 4:00 sharp." Ray squinted at his watch as he rounded the corner again, holding an orange. He sat down silently next to Frank and his eyes darted back and forth, following the animations on the screen for a few seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The house was empty and quiet except for the barely legible TV voices. It wasn't awkward, but comfortable rather, and Frank felt just fine sitting next to Ray fucking Toro as he ate a mandarin orange and watched cartoons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Frank was starting to say something, Ray interrupted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Want a wedge?" He offered him a couple in the palm of his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure." He popped them into his mouth and looked at Ray. "What goes on in your head, man?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray scoffed. "A lot." He paused to mute the TV, even though neither of them could hear it anyway. "Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing I- I just- I don't know. I don't know how you keep your shit together all the time, I mean, the world is kinda crashing down and you're just sitting here eating an orange."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray crossed his ankles and leaned back, tossing the peels of his orange into the trashcan across the room. He got most of it in, but still missed a few. "I guess I'm just used to helping people out. I'm good at hiding, you know, this isn't the first time I've covered up tracks for people that fell into pits ass-deep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Right."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I've known Geoff since we were in middle school. He was such a caring soul, he still is, and he would always rope himself up in the crowds that always got into trouble, and since he didn't want to give up until he helped everyone, he got so many detentions from shit not working out that he almost had to repeat ninth grade." He giggled a little bit. "Of course we were inseparable then, so it involved me too, most of the time, and he just kind of imported that mindset into me. And- and it isn't even just the fake ID biz, it was separating to take walks with the bullies and the outcasts they just sucker punched, trying to see the intricacy of people."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wow-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We had to hide in the smelly janitor's closet one time during a drug raid because we got a little too close to this group of kids who were addicted to pills in junior year. You know? That type of shit drove his life and just completely changed mine. Geoff means the world to me, and I haven't been the same since those years. That's what got me here. My first instinct is just to help people and that's why this isn't that big of a deal to me. I've done bigger things than this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank raised his eyebrows and exhaled through his nose, turning his whole body towards Ray, sitting criss-cross on the couch. "What the fuck do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> you've done bigger things than this?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I mean, if you count lying through your teeth to the Secret Service at five in the morning with rifles pointed at you while you're both nineteen and wearing nothing but your boxers as something big, there's that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank stared at his hands that were out in front of him, palms facing up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Or… or- or- or there's the time I smuggled this family of three that was running from the cops in the bathroom off my childhood bedroom for a weekend with Geoff the week before we graduated without anyone ever noticing…" Ray looked so proud of himself. How many more stories did he have locked inside his brain? How much more had he seen that he never showed?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Shit…"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Frank blinked at Ray, smiling at how much cooler he was to him now that he knew these things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, right? I can't switch off this impulse in my brain to just help you guys out. If I don't, there's just this little voice in my head that tells me something could happen that I could've prevented. And besides, there's nothing like doing a little hiding myself, so I'm happy to wipe myself and everyone I know off the map and flee this hellhole with the guys just to make sure you're all okay in the end. I'm starting to not be able to afford rent anymore, anyway. Could use a change of scenery."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This is completely fine to you? I'm losing the only town I've ever known and leaving with a guy I've known for just under a year and the band I've been in for two months tops."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's the life, Frank. Everything is easier when nothing fucking matters. No permanence, no heartbreak."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank liked that last bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And listen, I know how much you love Gee. You practically ooze with it. I know you </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>are making the right call here, leaving this place. I know you guys will be together for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>long time, if not forever. I can just- I don't know- feel it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank was beet red. He knew that Ray was telling the truth, and he couldn't sit still on the image of being with Gerard forever. How long even was that? He couldn't fathom it. He couldn't even begin to imagine how much joy that was. Frank had never been this happy with anyone, so the idea that this feeling could go on </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever</span>
  </em>
  <span> was overwhelming. He wasn't sure if his heart could even handle that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gerard really loves you, Frank-" He was cut off by the man and in question walking in through the front door again with Mikey.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey looked much more upbeat than he was half an hour ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard looked over at Frank from the doorway and waved him over by tilting his head towards the door. Then they were sitting out on the edge of the porch in the cold and Gerard was finishing up a smoke. They were speechless for a few moments, listening to each other sigh and chatter their teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, I-" Gerard started, flicking some of the ash off his cigarette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't." He interrupted, turning towards him. "Don't say you're sorry. I know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No it's- it's not that." He took a long drag, letting his eyes flutter shut as he inhaled. Little puffs of smoke came out of his mouth as he spoke. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I'm ready to go when you are."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Frank realized how much he'd been needing to hear those words, ever since the shake-up that was the night before, he had just tried to accept the moments for what they were. Now, he finally understood the second side of the mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, I love you too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was quiet again, nothing but the wind through the trees, colorless bark and dead, tan leaves melting into the sheet white cloudy sky. Frank was aching. Not just from the cold, dry air and the way it made his joints grind together, but from how quickly and deeply this was setting in. Like wet concrete seeping its way into every cavity inside of him, solidifying as every hour passed to make him stiff as a brick. He was rigid with it; rigid with how much he just wanted this to </span>
  <em>
    <span>end, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and how much they all still had left. He was going into rigor mortis, breathing in the oxygen slurry and preserving his bones for the museum they were gonna pass by on the highway. Or maybe he'd donate his body to science. Maybe they'd know the cure to this spiny rigidity, and somehow, post-mortem, they'd be able to cure this terminal impatience and bring him back to life. Maybe they'd be able to bypass the searing longing in his heart, the burning and the pain inside his chest that attached him to Gerard, or he could take his issue to the clinic so that they could tell him he had just swallowed a magnet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard finished his cigarette and stood up, pulling Frank up with him and hugging him tight to his chest. He wrapped him in his layers of jackets and coats and Gerard was </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He held him there for a minute or two under the ever-darkening sky, kissing the top of his head as often as he could. Then he set his chin on top of his head and spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are my world and everything in it. You are the stars in the sky, every planet, every asteroid crater, every comet. You are the endless expanse of nebulae and gas clouds that no human eye has ever touched. You are the infinite; you are time, space, life as I know it. You are everything I've ever wanted and more than I could have ever imagined. Frank, if I'm anything at all, I'm yours."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank loved the sound of his voice in his chest. He loved to feel every vibration, every syllable, every sound that came out of Gerard's lungs. He was focusing on that so that he didn't burst into tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's not true. If you're anything at all, you're home."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were waves of dark, dusty, passionate pink flares in Frank's vision now, finally, and he watched them curl over Gerard's body like soft folds of satin fabric. His ribs were hot, a welling up inside of him heating him up to his throat.  The aura stripes began to fade into the matching sunset, a display of aurora in a sky that would never see them. Gerard kissed the top of his head and the colors grew more vibrant, deep and vivid hue painting the clouds like Renaissance oil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they both agreed that it was too cold to keep standing there, and for Gerard to keep squeezing Frank like that, since his arms were falling asleep and his fingers had been numb for, as he put it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'twenty minutes now,' </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was already dark. The orange streetlight on the edge of Ray's front lawn was the only thing illuminating the whole stretch of road. Frank loved the way Gerard looked in it: his brow bone cast a shadow over his deep set eyes, and the little triangle of darkness that his sharp nose created- and- Frank was in love with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked back in the door and Ray had something in the oven, the whole house smelled like garlic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jesus Christ, Toro." Gerard rubbed his eyes. "If you were trying to find out if I was a vampire or not, you could've just asked."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I only used a clove!" He hollered from the kitchen over the running water in the sink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How much is a clove?" Gerard cleared his throat and sat down next to Mikey again, leaving room for Frank to cram his hips between Gerard's and the armrest of the sofa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ate dinner in front of the TV, well, at least Gerard, Mikey, and Ray had dinner, Frank just ate a plate full of the most garlicky potato wedges he'd ever had since he wasn't too excited to ruin his intestines on the steak Ray had prepared, especially if they were gonna be on the road with no real chance of stopping anywhere. It smelled nice, but he was sure that he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>nice if he let himself indulge. At least the potatoes were tasty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dude, you're lucky Mikey likes those wintergreen whatever-the-fuck Lifesavers so much like our grandpa used to, your breath is gonna be something fierce tonight." Gerard jokingly leaned away from Frank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you want a kiss, dear?" Frank's eyes widened and he leaned towards Gerard, who kept dodging him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go away!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Between Gerard's swats and protests, he somehow let Frank pin him against the back of the couch and kiss him on the mouth and linger for a second on his upper lip till Gerard pushed him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Frank, I love you, but you're gross."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey scrunched his nose up a little bit, but he hid it pretty well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all interchanged between actually watching the TV and talking about random bullshit, forgetting for hours. Frank thought it was nice to put his brain somewhere out where he couldn't feel it swelling against his dura mater. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was nice to be able to let himself spend time with the guys without thinking about it. They talked about the album, what they'd seen people saying about it, and Ray said he got an email last week with a photo of a German girl wearing an MCR shirt that she'd made herself. Gerard wouldn't believe that they'd gotten all the way over there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently they had fifty emails from labels and venues that they had to ignore begging them to sign and tour. That one stung.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What else stung? Something felt like it was imminently making love with gravity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh right. Of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Midnight hit the floor and so did their distracting conversations, bringing down with it the heavy mist and fog that hung around the ceiling. It was like biting into a mushy apple, swallowing a chip too soon and having to choke on the feeling of the jagged edge sliding down your throat, cutting as it goes. It was like sneezing underwater and breathing in, the burning, the panic, the pressure in your chest, pulling at the sutures so that you spit blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Shit…" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Frank wrung his hands out, something he was gonna be doing pretty often now that his nervous system was pissed off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are we still leaving at 2:00?" Gerard straightened in his seat and his hand landed on Frank's thigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If that's still the plan." Ray stood up and walked to the center of the room. "Hang on-" </span>
  <em>
    <span>click.</span>
  </em>
  <span> "Oh." The lights and the furnace shut off all at once. He sighed. "I forgot that they said they were turning off my power at midnight."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"God damn it, Ray." Frank put on the hoodie that Gerard had already taken off and offered him. "We have to pack in the cold now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not if you hurry your ass up. Guess we're leaving earlier than we were thinking."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey still didn't say anything, but Gerard hugged him tight and fixed his hair for him before he took Frank's hand and led him out to his car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Frank's heart was fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>racing, </span>
  </em>
  <span>hands shaking with the shivering in his jaw and shoulders in the cold, and his throat hurt. It was finally happening. Sure, he wanted it to be over, but not this quick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard opened his trunk and the infinity-knotted cords were sitting straight on top of all the bags stuffed recklessly in. "I am a bad liar. I never untied them."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You suck." Frank jeered, elbowing Gerard's soft side and running his fingers over the smooth, uniform, ridged texture of the ribbons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone was taking stuff out of their own respective cars, and while Frank was kneeling in the back seat of his burgundy sedan he moved quickly so that he didn't aggravate the ever-growing loneliness inside of him. If his hands stayed busy, he stayed warm and he didn't have to think about how much he wanted to be with Gerard, helping him out instead. He wished he would just come and scoop him up in his arms, carry him, and let him lay down while he did all the work. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But that would be selfish of me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, and shook his head, toting a heavy cardboard box on his hip to toss in the back of the van.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank made enough trips back and forth, nearly jogging, that he started to sweat, but that didn't stop him. His chest was tight and he wheezed and his lungs were crying out for help, but he knew that if he slowed down, the boulder rolling down the mountain would catch up to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he shut the doors and the trunk to his car, Frank could barely breathe, and his vision was spotty and spinning. He just slumped against one of the rear wheels and let his bones turn to gelatin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You okay there, Frank?" Mikey strolled over to sit next to him, even though the cement driveway was cold enough to make Frank's ass numb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey put two of his fingers under Frank's chin and hummed. "Listen," He massaged a spot on his neck that was rather tender, and that he hadn't noticed before. "Sorry I… haven't been as around as I'd like to be in all of this. If it's scary for me, I can't imagine what it feels like for you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just shook his head again, watching Gerard pace back and forth with grocery bags. Whatever Mikey was doing was helping a lot, he was already starting to feel better. He needed to learn how to do that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you doing?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey tilted his head to the side. "Carotid massage. Slows down your heart rate faster than a stab to the chest. Anyway-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just looked at him. He was reminded that he loved it when people were fucking weird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You remind me a lot of my brother. Just- the way that you see music, and things in general, you two are like two halves of the same apple, star in the middle and everything." Mikey took his fingers off and helped Frank stand up. "What I mean to say with all of this is… Thanks for loving him like you do. I'm not sure if he's told you, but he's had issues with faith, and it's been hurting him for a long time, I mean, as long as I've known him, so, to have you just appear when you did just sealed the deal for him. Gerard's very spiritual, as you've seen, and the amount of times he's told me that you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>just magic </span>
  </em>
  <span>is enough to stuff anyone like a turkey."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank wanted to thank him, to hug him for as long as he could, so he could show how much he appreciated it, but he still felt sore and tense and by every definition of the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausted,</span>
  </em>
  <span> so he just put his hand on his shoulder and let him help him to the back row of seats in Ray's van, where one of Gerard's backpacks was already sitting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to push out a word or two but his throat was dry, so it just came out as a bundle of clearing his throat and stuttering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't have to say anything. You just let somebody help you. That says all it needs to."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard must have ranted to Mikey about another one of Frank's automatic reflexes. What else did he know about Frank that Frank didn't even know about himself?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's the last thing." Ray shut the doors and jogged up the sidewalk to his own front door, stepped inside for a few minutes, re-emerged with an arm full of travel mugs, obviously filled with coffee, and locked the door. He wrung his hands out in front of him after distributing the drinks, and looked at everyone, standing in a semi-circle around the last remaining open side door of the van where Frank was sitting with his legs sticking out of the opening. "Let's flee this son of a bitch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard climbed in next to him and he didn't say anything, he just clung to him, pulling him as close as he could get to him. "I love you, Frank. You ready?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"For you? Always."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Ray started the engine and off they went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank just laid there against Gerard, smelling his scent, and pressing kisses into his collarbone. Gerard pulled Frank's legs over his lap and rubbed little hearts into his knee with one hand while the other was around his shoulders. Frank got a face full of Gerard's hair as the van merged slowly onto the highway, and that was the last thing he was awake to feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drive was long, and Mikey and Ray took turns driving so that they wouldn't pull muscles in their backs or break their tailbones from sitting in the same place so long, but Gerard never moved once or complained. He sat there for the whole eight hour drive, gently kissing Frank and holding him, swelling with love and nearly driving himself to insanity with it. Mikey was right, he did have issues with faith, and he wished eternally that he hadn't had to go through what he did, and that he didn't remember all the guys that he always would, but he didn't have to wish eternally that Frank would stay where he was. He already knew he was going to. Maybe it was time he surprised himself. Maybe it was time he kept some faith inside for himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard felt his eyelids get heavy at around 4:00am after he ran out of coffee, and he held them open for as long as he could with every ounce of his might so that he could watch the wind in the trees of the forest between him and Frank. The branches swayed and creaked in the completely silent world, muted hum of the engine and the tires on the asphalt distant and otherworldly. The flowers were blooming and growing in front of him, buds bursting in real time, tall and full so that the path between them was defined. Gerard's lungs were clear now, and his nose was filled with nothing but pine and prairie grass. What a blessing this was. The angles of Frank's face that he looked down at were mountain ridges, rolling hills, dips and pits in valleys, and he was nature. He was beautiful. Frank was the first summer sun after the hardest winter imaginable, and the hot wind that made your cold fingers burn. Gerard was deeply in love with him. So much so that he ached with it. And so he squeezed him a little tighter to his body, signed a pentacle on his thigh, kissed his temple, and that was the last thing he was awake to feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard awoke to Frank's elbow in his rib cage and both his legs and his left arm were numb, and the sunrise that was glowing out the windows was golden, contrasting against the baby blue sky. Ray was driving slow, and he eventually stopped at a stall in between two buildings. A woman stepped out of her booth holding a clipboard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey turned around to face him and he looked exhausted down to the bone with a mixture of relief and burned out anxiety, but he smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Welcome to Toronto! Did you folks have a long night?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have no idea."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard shook Frank awake.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. x</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>epilogue.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i couldn't help myself. i had to finish it. like i said before i cant bear to leave you guys hanging.</p>
<p>this made me very very happy to write. i hope it gives you that same giddy feeling.</p>
<p>follow me<br/>ig- amnesiarts<br/>twt- thedevilscrimes<br/>lj- pennilessheroes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Do you still want syrup on yours, Frankie?" Gerard called to Frank, who was sitting in the grass in the backyard, bathing in the sun. He watched Mitch pounce on butterflies and little beetles in the garden. He had finally gotten Gerard's cat to like him- no- </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, and he liked to joke that Mitch loved him more than the little cat loved Gerard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go ham."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard was shirtless, wearing nothing but some long flannel pajama pants, and he was ethereal in the morning light. His shoulders and soft belly were Frank's favorite part, aside from his beautiful face, of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Saturday. They were seeing Mikey and Ray later, who were 'roommates' in their own little apartment a few blocks down the road from Frank and Gerard's gigantic five bedroom cottage. Each room had its own specific function, like the art room: the first door on the left, Gerard's altar room, which Gerard had already given half of to Frank, since he'd started practicing with his help: directly across the hall, and their work-in-progress recording studio: the last door at the end of the hallway, perpendicular to their bedroom. The last bedroom was just a regular old guest room. Every inch of this place was home, and they hadn't thought about what used to be home in at least a year. They were starting another album.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard sat down next to Frank in the grass, carrying a blanket and a basket, which was so over-the-top formal for the three foot long walk from the kitchen to the backyard, but it made Frank feel cared for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Your pancakes, darling." Gerard always spoke in some form of Transatlantic accent when he cooked for Frank, and he ate that shit right up. He loved it. Gerard opened the basket, called his cat over, and gave him a tiny plate of whipped cream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ate in silence, and turned their faces up at the sun periodically, eyes closed, just taking it all in. Frank loved everything. He wasn't one to do that, ever. He wasn't one to overwhelm himself with raw joy, but he became something else after the move. Every worry fell away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They knew all their neighbors, who were so, so very kind, and had decent jobs at the metaphysical shop at the bottom of the hill they lived on. They had plans for music, for life, a cat, and a home that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>owned.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Frank never thought he would ever want this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey," Gerard stuck his hand out to Frank, with a mouth full of pancakes. "Can I ask you something?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You just did." He giggled, proud of himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Another thing. Um-" Gerard's stomach swirled, not just from the wave of sugar. He tried to keep himself grounded on the blanket so that his arms didn't go numb. "I'll wait for you to finish that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank stuffed the last bite into his mouth and set his plate down on top of Gerard's empty one. He just stared at him, squinting in the sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hit me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know that little pink box I gave you last year that's sitting on your nightstand? It said </span>
  <em>
    <span>'don't open till you're safe' </span>
  </em>
  <span>or something on it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah… why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go get it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank was oblivious. He retrieved it, rolled it in his hands for a second, then jogged back outside to Gerard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay." Gerard sat, facing him, and held Frank's hands out in front of him like he did while he said his vows during the handfasting. "I've wanted this since the day I saw you. Open it." Gerard let his hands drop into his lap and wrung them out, massaging all his joints so that he wouldn't shake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank's eyes widened. "Shut up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Time to ask you another question." He scooted closer to him, nearly drooling at the sight of him in the sunlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank didn't say anything. He just stared at the inside of the box, breathing quickly and trying to drum up the courage to speak. He teared up instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Frank, do you wanna get married?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up at Gerard, mouth agape, and kissed him, pushing him over onto his back on the blanket. He was on fucking fire from it. He was aching with it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was so in love with him and now he was gonna have him forever. It didn't matter where home was. It didn't matter what they'd left behind or what could've happened if they'd stayed just an hour later. Home was wherever Gerard held Frank in his arms, wherever he could hear his heart beating, wherever his breath was hot against his skin. He was blessed everyday for his entire life now, waking up in the morning next to the only man he'd ever truly loved </span>
  <em>
    <span>this much</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he was sick with it. It burned. But it was such a lovely flame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wonder how many languages I can say yes in."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now he thought about everything. Everything that had happened, everything that was to come, and how narrowly they really got out. Sure, it didn't really matter anymore, since it was well over a year behind them, but that didn't stop bitter memories from being bitter. He remembered Ray pacing back and forth in the hotel room the morning they got into Toronto, talking for an hour straight about how he'd never driven that fast in his entire life, and they almost had to stop for the night because they had to pull off the highway to drive in a maze to lose a cop that was on their tail about the lack of license plating on the van. He talked about how scared he was, how close it really came, and how empty and hopeless the expanse of road was. Frank would never forget the look on Mikey's face when he told him how many times he'd yelled at Gerard to let go of Frank and get down so that the cops couldn't see in the windows, and he wouldn't budge because </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Frank is still sleeping." </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn't want to be scared of that now. All he could think about, and all he would ever think about, was that he was marrying Gerard and he would feel this blissful feeling for the rest of his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ring was a simple, plain gold band with a little clear section where a tiny, dried, magenta rose petal was suspended in resin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's part of a rose that grew on that bush we planted when we had our handfasting. It was the first bud and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny,</span>
  </em>
  <span> so I just knew what I had to do with it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ring fit perfectly on Frank's finger and he cried- no, sobbed is the proper word, kissing Gerard as many times as he could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there they stayed for an hour or two, watching the cat and the clouds roll by, while Gerard snuck photos of Frank with a film camera while he looked so incredible, so unreal, so complete, and he would be his forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Who're we telling first?" Frank joked, pretending like he didn't already know the answer, leaning persistently on Gerard's shoulder and tracing the slouch marks and folds in Gerard's stomach with his finger so that he would get the hint that he wanted him to pick all the things up from the yard and take him back to bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mikey. No doubt." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard got the hint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, Frank couldn't stay still as he waited for Mikey and Ray to get there. They walked, since it was only a few blocks away, and Mikey's asthma was giving him troubles so he needed the fresh air. Frank was bouncing off Gerard, and the walls, giddy with delight to tell everyone he knew that he was going to get married.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was marrying Gerard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn't have to wait for his brain to catch him up on that. Things felt more real here. He was finally able to process things and let good happen to him, which all got easier the longer he worked on witchcraft with Gerard. His energy vibration was very high, according to him, and that was a good thing. He felt alive with every breath, something he rarely saw and didn't know that he dearly missed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hi." Mikey walked in the door in a white button-up shirt, and his hair was spiked up and styled like it always was, ever since they moved. He must have been spending enough time with Ray, who took at least half an hour every morning to meticulously care for his curls that the habit rubbed off on him. He never dressed nice before this year, mostly just lazing around, wearing the same Anthrax shirt and blue jeans that he wore for a week straight. "Why are you looking at me like that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard was beaming, smiling ear to ear, and holding Frank's left hand behind his back. "Okay hold on, Ray stay in the foyer, I want Mikey to see this first."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Got it." Ray stood stiffly in the dark entryway, teetering on his heels and texting Geoff, who had found himself in the shit, and had to drive to Toronto to get away from the FBI. He would be there in a few days, and Ray had agreed to let him stay at his apartment with Mikey.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey strolled into the room, with a slight air of suspicion on his face. He walked with his head turned slightly to the side, brows furrowed slightly. "What's going on? What did you guys do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard let go of Frank's hand and let him hold it up to Mikey's face. His wrist went limp to show off the ring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my God!" Mikey gasped and brought his hands up to cover his mouth. "Oh my God!" He repeated, closing his hands into fists and shaking them. "Ray!" He called him over, and he hesitantly followed, after Gerard waved him in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was just as excited as Mikey was. "You're getting married!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank nodded, leaning on Gerard again, kissing the nape of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"When did this happen?" Ray gently pulled Frank's hand closer to him so he could twist the ring around and look at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This morning out in the yard. Mitch saw it happen." Gerard looked down at the round, silver cat weaving in between his legs, mewing at him for more cream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They gave this to me in a box before we left last year." Frank admired the ring again. "I never even opened it till now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corner of Gerard's mouth turned up a little bit at the acknowledgement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They?" Ray put his hand on Gerard's shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think I'm non-binary."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray grinned now and raised his eyebrows, patting Gerard on the back and glowing. "Good for you!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm trying out he and they pronouns for now. It's working out. I figured it out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Looks like everything is working out for everyone." Mikey looked up at Ray with eyes that were swimming in him, underwater and breathing in the fluid like he was always meant to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How many announcements can we fit into fifteen minutes?" Frank sniffled, switching between staring lovingly at his ring and his fiancé.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Fiancé. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was gonna be the next hot topic of the year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't act surprised, Frank. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at them." Gerard stretched his arm out at Mikey and Ray.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From there, they sat on the couch over coffee and talked, catching up on the things they'd missed, plans for the engagement party, when the wedding might be, and what this all meant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What this all meant was that the four of them were finally all happy, and none of them felt the need to address the year before more than they already had. It happened. It was over. It didn't take up room inside their ears anymore. This was healing. This was bliss. This was love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a dark, dusty, passionate pink, and Frank had painted the whole entire universe that Gerard told him every night was full of him, that color, and he could see Gerard everywhere he looked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they were alone again, and the sun had set long ago, Frank curled up with Gerard in bed, with Mitch nestled in the blankets at their feet. They had picked Mikey to be their best man, and Ray would be the maid- or- </span>
  <em>
    <span>groom </span>
  </em>
  <span>of honor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And be fair, Ray wasn't totally opposed to wearing a gown… <br/></span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The red, pink, and white cords, still tied in their original infinity knot, hung on the wall above their bed.<br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the happiest either of them had ever been, and this was just the beginning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Look at your ring, Frankie." Gerard held his hand, running his thumb over the band.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frank listened and took it off to admire it for the fiftieth time, but this time he looked a little closer. Inside the band was a tiny engraving in Gerard's blocky handwriting that read: </span>
  <em>
    <span>'For you: Always. You're my razzmatazz."</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is the end.</p>
<p>thank you for everything, from the bottom of my little, evil, black heart that is full of rats.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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